The Crease In The Rock
by Curo-Hatake1
Summary: Have you ever seen a river rock? smooth and perfect? only one flaw that you can see? a Crease? a place for things to get caught in, like emotions.[Mohinder xOC]Possibly[Sylar xOC] No Promises. Rating May Change
1. Sheer Coincidence

I do not own Heroes

Sheer Coincidence 

Sheila was a girl, a 5'4, snarled, red head with a monstrous attitude; and a heavy limp in her left leg. She tapped her wood and bronze cane on the ground and she sat on a filthy road side street. It was dusty and little lizards were scampering past her. She looked up at a dark night's sky and sighed, her hair was matted and dirty, her skin even darker than usual from the dirt and sun exposure. She had no home; it was gone and destroyed, wiped off the face of the earth with no more noise than a heavy wind. A large black hole, if you're willing to believe it, had sucked it up never to be seen again. The only thing she had was a backpack full of old memories, her clothes and a cane. No one knew her name, no one knew what she was, and apparently no one could tell she was trying to hitch hike.

"Why Jesus don't got love for me, I do not know

Why my daddy gotta make fun a me, I do not know

Why my home ain't got no windows, I do not know

But I do know that my daddy ain't got fun for me

And Jesus don't love anyone…."

She said in a quasi poem she made on the fly. Something to pass the time. For the first time in 20 minutes a set of head lights made their way towards her. She got up fast as she could and waved, picking up a cardboard sign that said, "Civilization or Bust" on it. The car slowed down and Sheila breathed a sigh of happiness. She bent down and the car window rolled down. A man around his twenties with thick curly black hair and dark skin looked at her with a meaningful smile.

"Going somewhere?"

Sheila smiled and in her thick Australian accent said;

"Anywhere."

He opened the door and she got in. The car was black and in good condition, a car not to fancy, just to get you where your going. She reclined and let out another sigh. Warm, it was warm in the car and put her icy fingers in front of the vents.

"Thank you so much you don't know how much I appreciate this."

The man smiled again and laughed a little at her eagerness to be near the heat. Her jeans were ripped and dirty, her shirt in the same pathetic condition.

"I think I have an Idea, Backpacking? Hitchhiking across the country?"

He asked still smiling. Sheila didn't smile though, she only rubbed her hands together faster.

"Homeless."

"Oh…."

The mans face fell and he tried his best to switch topics.

"I didn't catch your name."

Sheila leaned back in her seat and tapped her cane deciding whether or not to use her real name but he might have heard it in the papers, a house just didn't disappear without notice. She resigned herself.

"Names Sheila, Sheila Hogan."

His eyebrows scrunched together as if thinking or perplexed.

"Mohinder and, Hogan? I saw that name in the papers, did your house disappear?"

"Nice to meet you Mohinder and yeah, in a black hole if you can believe it."

She said non-chalantly, apparently this was an everyday occurrence. Maybe it was for her. It disturbed Mohinder that she could be so calm when everything she ever had was gone.

"A black hole? How is that possible? Did you do it? Are you-?..."

"Am I What? Different? Dangerous? A Murderer? A Freak?"

She said looking out the window, a town was coming up in a few miles.

"No. Genetically challenged."

"I guess you could say that."

She said looking at him with large green eyes and smiled again. A glint in her eye set apart from her dusty ragged appearance, made her seem less like a homeless teen and more like a kid who's up to no good.

"I study People like you, if you don't mind, I'd like to take you to New York and run a few tests, maybe a demonstration of your powers in a controlled environment."

Sheila's eyes widened, this was a pretty decent offer, maybe she would be able to get a decent job in New York and maybe find a small apartment. Far fetched, but possible. But the controlled environment was unnecessary; she could do that in the desert.

"If you go off road a little and into the bush I could show you here."

Mohinder shrugged and rove off road. There were bumps and scratches on the car after wards. Sheila Got out and supported herself on her cane looking at them.

"Ohhhh, Sorry bout your car mate."

"Its okay, Rental."

Sheila laughed and started searching on the ground.

"What are you doing?"

"Looking for a rock."

She said picking up one about the size of her fist. She took a big breath and Mohinder waited for something to happen.

"So?….."

"Patience is a virtue."

She said, a low humming sound emitted from the rock and it turned red as if burning. Mohinder watched in wide eyed fascination as the rock as well as her hands turned ember red, then, with a sound like two bowling pins hitting each other. The rock emitted a bright flash and disappeared; leaving in its wake a hole, a black space that was the size of Sheila's palm.

"I can't believe it, this-this shouldn't be physically possible, your hand it would've been incinerated in the heat it takes to make a black hole."

"Believe it. And does anything in the world make sense anymore?"

She asked looking at him and picking up a pebble. She threw the pebble in and in a snap, it was gone. She then closed her hand, when she opened it there was nothing there.

"No I suppose not, but this is extraordinary; I mean we've never been able to encounter a black hole before, not able to study them up close ever. You may prove to be beneficial to The government, NASA maybe!"

"We is?"

"Scientists."

Sheila had a wide grin on her face, Her future had just been secured, a woman who could make a black hole big enough to wipe out an entire city. Now who in their right mind would waste that talent?

" 'Aight then, Now how you plan to bring me into NASA, they just gonna let you walk in the front doors."

Mohinder laughed loudly, Sheila cocked her head to the side and laughed feebly. He was starting to scare her. Maybe he was just another whack job?

"I know the President, A Mr. Nathan Petrelli."

Okay, this guy was definitely a whack job, Sheila tightened the grip on her cane and put weight on her bad leg as to be able to lift the cane easier if need be.

"Okay, Are you just another Psycho? Or are you serious?"

She asked, giving him some benefit of the doubt.

"No, no I'm quite serious. How would I know about people like you if I was affiliated with the government in some way? Actually, he's like you. Gifted."

Sheila's eyes widened and she forgot about holding onto her cane, she put all her weight on her bad leg and fell. She landed with a dull thud on the dusty ground and let out a groan of pain as her leg throbbed.

"Are you okay?"

Mohinder asked helping her up. She shakily got to her feet and steadied herself.

"Yeah, just my bad luck…and leg."

She said, hobbling towards the car, yearning for the warm interior and the posh seats. To her the car was heaven. Mohinder followed and got in, starting up the car.

" Can I be bold as to ask what happened?"

He asked nodding at her leg, hands busied with the wheel. Sheila shrugged as if it was nothing.

"Nothing really. When I destroyed my home a large rock hit me, pretty nasty lookin'."

She said lifting her pants leg to show him a large dirty bandage stained through with blood. Mohinder grimaced, it looked painful.

"Said so."

She said pulling the leg down as they passed the city limits sign.

"We can stop here for tonight. I'm too tired to cook so we can get so take out or something."

Sheila grinned to herself, she had really received a blessing today.

"_He can cook? Score! Hot and useful!"_

"You seem happy. How old are you?"

She had forgotten how old she was, she didn't really do birthdays.

"Its 2007?...17."

She said shrugging; she seemed to do that a lot. She had nothing distinguishing about her she was ordinary, nothing special in her attitude almost as if she had been ground down like a stone in the river, everything just rolls off her.

"Burgers?"

He asked and she nodded. If everything rolled off her, she didn't get hurt or distracted, but unfortunately every river rock has a crease no matter how small that something will get to and by knowing that crease an enemy will have an advantage and suddenly that Crease doesn't seem so small. That was the only flaw with a river rock personality like hers.

"Yes, please, I've only had roasted rattlesnake for the past few weeks."

She said looking at the diner they had pulled into. They got out and walked to the front door, when they opened the door the few people there looked at them and turned back to their business, Sheila had been holding her breath, her face had been in the papers; obviously these people didn't read it carefully.

"Are you okay?"

Mohinder asked quietly.

"You know how you feel impending doom right before something bad happens?"

"Yeah."

"I that just happened and it really did nothing for my acid reflux."

She said sighing and taking a seat at the counter. She opened the menu all it said was

Menu

Breakfast

Lunch

Dinner

$3.99

Drinks

Coffee

Lemonade

Soda

Beer

A waitress came to them as asked them what they wanted. Mohinder and Sheila looked at each other and at the same time said:

"Dinner."

The waitress rolled her eyes and wrote down "Dinner" on her little pad.

"To drink?"

"Coffee."

Mohinder said and Sheila reached into her pocket and pulled out a wallet. She pulled out a little white card laminated in plastic.

"Beer."

She said showing it to the waitress, She looked it over skeptically and then wrote it down.

"You look so young for 25."

The woman said smiling at her.

"I know."

Sheila said smiling back; Sheila, master of black holes and the bold faced lie. As the waitress walked away Mohinder gave her a wide eyed stare.

"What?"

"Your 17."

He said lowly, so no one would hear. Sheila put the card back in her otherwise empty wallet. He was starting to see the crease in her personality.

"And? As if anyone's perfect, I've gotten hammered, high, and otherwise."

She said as the waitress came back with their drinks. She placed them on the counter and Sheila picked up her bottle and gave the woman a "Cheers" gesture before sipping from it.

"And you seemed so serene."

"Even Jesus was not as perfect as had seemed"

She said taking another swig; Mohinder eyed the bottle as it was pressed to her lips. Moisture dripped from the neck onto her fingers, mixing with the dirt and making the neck of the bottle dirty. She almost looked as if she was kissing the bottle like a long lost friend, a hint of malice in a priest or a drop of water on dry ground, Thirsty for everything and anything. He hadn't had a drink for a few weeks and the job wore on him. He absentmindedly licked his lips. Sheila noticed and once again the glint of a child up to no good returned to her eye.

"Want some, Mohinder?"

She had put emphasis on his name, straining it. Coaxing it; she was an expert on it, obviously she had done this before. Mohinder stuttered slightly, torn between a certain feeling of stressed need and moral decency.

"I-I Mean, you- you shouldn't ha-"

Sheila had rolled her eyes and pressed the rim of the bottle to his lips before he could finish, as not to mess he swallowed and she put the bottle down.

"Better?"

A warm feeling stirred in his stomach as the Alcohol mixed with stomach acid. He had to admit a certain comfort came with the warming sensation in the pit of his stomach.

"…Yes…"

She resigned himself and gave in. Sheila smiled and reached into her backpack, pulling out a silver bottle.

"If I had drunken this in the desert I would've dehydrated and died."

She opened it and poured some into his coffee without even asking. Mohinder didn't complain, this was actually a favor to him. He himself was starting to feel like a river rock and this was only to return the edge.

"Thank you."

Their food came, A Burger, a pickle on the side, a serving of Potato Salad. Simple, home style, undoubtedly artery clogging. They dug in and finished off their liquors, Fuck fight the demons, this was a demon worthy moment. They finished their food and paid their bill, They left wordlessly. Checked into a Motel a few miles down and settled themselves in.

"I'm taking a bath."

Was the first thing Sheila said as stepping into the door. They had decided that they could share a room like respectable mature adult and semi-adult. Mohinder decided it was best; he had work to do anyways, besides he had yet to tell her about Sylar. He listened to the water running. And Sheila stuck her head out the door, even under the dirt he could see her face turn red.

"I don't have anything to sleep in cept my underwear… so could I-uh?..."

"Borrow a T-shirt?"

"Yes."

Mohinder smiled, how coy, if he didn't know better he would've thought she was flirting. Either that or nervous, but rocks didn't get nervous so she was probably actually embarrassed.

"They're in my bag."

He said and Sheila moved over to his bed where he had tossed his duffle bag. He carried his laptop separately. She opened it with shaking fingers; it was just odd to be this close proximity to a full grown male, especially one so attractive. She rifled through it until she found a plain looking T-shirt. Large, white, same as the rest of them. Underneath them a flash of color caught her eye, a red jacket, high collar, very exotic looking. She couldn't help her self, she felt the fabric, it was smooth, soft, well worn; she smelled it, a deep rooted scent of jasmine filled it. Mohinder hadn't noticed and she replaced the jacket carefully.

"Thanks, Uh, I have to wash my clothes and I can do that by hand, I won't make a mess so if you have any that need washing I'll gladly do them for you."

"Uh no I'm good, more clean ones than dirty."

"O-okay, I just feel I should do something to repay you. I mean, I'd probably be sleeping on the road again if it wasn't for you."

Mohinder turned away from his laptop that was warming up and not quite operational yet. Sheila had her mask on again, a frozen smile; eyen her eyes seemed painted and glazed right now. She reminded him eerily of a Kabuki Mask he once saw in one of his fathers world books when he was a child. The mask was called "Za Rai Shojo" The Lying Maiden. A tale of a faithless wife who murdered her husband, keeping her smile in place through the whole process, at his funeral she cried so hard that she formed a small lake, and she never stopped smiling, to this day there was a statue of a beautiful smiling maiden somewhere in the mountains, she was drowned by her own tears. Mohinder mentally shuddered at this thought, he wondered if she was familiar with Kabuki if she wasn't it was just and eerie coincidence, if not, well she was sending one hell of a mixed up signal.

"I do what I can."

With that, Sheila went into the bathroom and turned on the shower. She stripped out of her large white sweat jacket, jeans, boots, T-shirt, Tank top, and underwear; All of them dirty and dusty. She threw her underwear in the shower with her washing them out and leaving them to dry, wringing out what she could. She groped at a silver chain at her breast, on the end of it was a watch, a Sylar brand watch, she put it on the sink counter. She got into the shower and brown water ran off her body, forming muddy pools at her feet, washed away by the constant flow. She grabbed the complimentary shampoo and scrubbed her hair, irritating her sunburned scalp. She hissed lowly, it burned like hell. But it was better than having heavy greasy hair. Her normally frizzed out, bright red, curly hair was now semi straight and heavy with water. She scrubbed the rest of her with vengeance. After she was done, she got out of the shower and looked in the mirror, a airbrushed tan face looked at her, slightly sunburned, her lips pink and chapped, a few minor scratches and scars here and there, all would heal. She had a pretty face, but in a strange way like how when you look at one of M.C. Escher's pictures you never catch everything the first time and you have to look at it again. Never quite able to tell what it is or about. An Illusion from the very start, nothing completely real; and she knew it. After sighing at her reflection, she started to wash her clothes, if nothing more than to busy her hands.


	2. My Watch Will Kill Me

I do not own Heroes

Mohinder was still analyzing the list of People with powers, looking for Sheila's name so he could cross it off the list, When she finally stepped out of the bathroom. She was wearing his T-shirt and from what he could see, nothing else. Her hair was soaked and the bandage on her leg looked like it had been washed and re-wrapped. Red still remained but the rest was an off white, he could see the wound underneath. Because it was still wet it clung to her, congealed blood surrounded green and blue bruising as well as the pink and white cut, pink from the exposed muscle and white from the pus. Rather grizzly and infected.

"You know you should really clean that."

He said turning back to the computer, when his fathers' old box computer had broken Sylar thought he had lost the information forever but luckily Mohinder had been smart enough to store it inside a floppy disk. Sheila sighed, it hurt to clean it, to even touch it, the water had burned like hell though she wouldn't admit it and she wasn't about to douse it in something that would make the pain so unbearable she'd probably pass out.

"It'd Hurt too much."

She said looking down and throwing her semi wet clothes on her bed with one hand, and leaning on her cane with the other.

"Which is worse, hurt or dead?"

"Hurt, when you're dead the pain is over."

She said sitting on her bed carefully, as not to fall or expose anything indecent. She smiled, her Mask in place once again.

"You look much better without a layer of dirt on your face."

"Most people do….and you look better all the time."

She muttered the last part to herself; she always felt the need to discreetly flirt with pretty guys, whether they were married, over aged or otherwise.

"What was that?"

"Nothing."

She said quickly, she laid back on her bed after pushing her clothes off it. It was a two bed room; she had the one in the corner Mohinder had the one near the window.

"G'night, sleep tight, don' let the rattlesnakes bite."

"Rattlesnakes?"

"Nothing, just have a good night."

Mohinder looked back to his comp and as soon as Sheila fell asleep found that on this list, there was no Sheila Hogan. Unfortunately this list didn't have a 'By Powers' search so he couldn't search for black holes. Either there was a glitch in the formula or Sheila wasn't who she said she was. He once again had to be wary of those he met, this obviously wasn't Sylar, he understood Sylars behavior and this wasn't it. Mohinder fingered a small vial in his pocket containing a heavy narcotic. Tomorrow, he severely hoped that he would not have to drug her Chai. For now he let her sleep, he doubted she could do much harm. He turned out the light and the whole room was dark, he could only see her outline in the dark, And ever so eerily one of her hands hung over the edge bathed in light from the outside reminding him of when he once saw a hand slip out from under a white sheet on a coroners gurney, pale and limp, lifeless. Her hand mimicked that perfectly, pale in the light and limp in sleep, it disturbed him. When he went to bed, he turned his head to the window instead of looking at her. He closed his eyes and went to sleep, lulled by some unknown rhythmic ticking sound. His dreams that night were not the most pleasant.

_A heavy rhythmic beat out of a song he'd once heard filled his ears and in the dark a white figure moved towards him, huge, a face, a Mask. The Lying Maiden Mask. It laughed at him once and disappeared, leaving him startled and confused. A garbled mix of words hit his ears._

"_This is what I brought you, this you can keep .this is what I brought you may forget me I promise to depart just Promise one thing."_

_He turned around; all he saw was a shock of red hair. Sheila? Another whoosh, black hair. He turned again face to face with Sheila._

"_Kiss my eyes and lay me to sleep."_

_Gone. He was turning in circles seeing flashes of their faces. When he finally stopped, he saw their faces in the shadows one half of either of them, two people, one similarity. He wasn't careful with trusting them. Sheila may very well turn to be just as dangerous. _He woke.

Mohinder sat up, it was morning, and he could hear someone singing in the small kitchen of the motel room. He let the sudden occurring fear he had thought about before bed get into his dreams, it was just paranoia, nothing to get worked up over. He Got out of bed his shirt was soaked through in sweat and so was his pillow. He moved towards the kitchen and saw Sheila singing to the radio and cooking breakfast, probably stole his keys and found the food.

"Traveling in a fried-out combie  
On a hippie trail, head full of zombie  
I met a strange lady, she made me nervous  
She took me in and gave me breakfast  
And she said, Do you come from the land down under?"

She spun on her Cane swayed to the music. Mohinder had to suppress laughter as she danced, he also blushed though you couldn't see it. She obviously thought no one was watching her. Her Mask was gone and she was smiling, a true happy smile.

"No I don't actually."

Mohinder said not able to stay unnoticed for much longer. She turned and her face went a color that you'd see on a radish. She immediately put her Masking face back on and the red subsided.

"Breakast? Eggs and Pancakes."

She said motioning to the food. Mohinder smiled, he didn't have to cook this morning, Good Luck. But then the little Paranoid voice in his head said she might've poisoned it. The voice was shot down when she picked up some of the food herself and ate it. He too grabbed a plate and served himself. The Cooking was plain but decent; she had made the eggs plain and the pancakes too, a simple carbohydrate and protein breakfast. It was quiet.

"You know you should be wary about who you associate with."

"Yeah, whyzat?"

"There is a man called Sylar, He kills people like you and steals their power. I made the mistake of taking him for a man called Zane Taylor, nearly killed me."

She snickered and then started laughing.

"What's so funny?"

"My watch is going to kill me!"

She said before laughing again. Mohinder looked confused to the highest regard. Sheila saw that and reached into her shirt, pulling out a silver heart shaped watch on a long silver necklace chain. She pointed to the manufacturers name; it was a Sylar brand watch.

"How odd."

He knew that Sylar was once a watchmaker so maybe he had stolen the name, a major copyright infringement. Or on a daydreamier note maybe he was being paid to endorse Sylar watches. Mohinder laughed too.

"See? But this watch even if it was the guy in a shape shifted form or something, it would never kill me. No matter how fast my heart beats or anything, the minute it goes back to normal my watch beats along with it. Freaky Hunh?"

"More sentimental than Freaky."

Mohinder said seeing where someone would come to believe this. Probably she had received this watch from a person close to her.

"Was it a gift from a boyfriend or something?"

Sheila's face had a look of confusion on it and she poked her eggs unceremoniously.

"Actually, I don't know who gave it to me, one day It just arrived on my porch, special wrapped and express shipped."

"Where was it from?"

Sheila furrowed her eyebrows a little and thought back.

"Queens, Queens New York, The note inside said, "For Princess." And that was it. It creeped me out at first, I had been to queens with my mother on vacation that summer and I did eye it in the window of a shop my mother went to, to get her watch fixed, I felt like I had some stalker but I got over it."

Mohinder lifted his head from his food and looked at her, Sylar had come from Queens.

"How old were you?"

"15, but everyone said I at least looked twenty. I'm aging in advanced, don't like that."

Mohinder had to agree that she looked to be around her twenty's but Sylar was at least 30. Rather creepy indeed.

"I think that may have come from Sylar himself, he's at least 30."

Sheila laid her food on the counter and bit her lower lip.

"I'm really not that hungry anymore."

She said and Mohinder laughed, how uncommonly odd it was to find things like this. She was just a freak case when it came to the people he dealt with. Usually they had either adjusted to their power and were using it or they were freaked out and in denial. She was neither, plus she had a 2 year old minor link to Sylar. Utterly odd.

"Well, We should get dressed and be heading out then, long trip ahead of us."

"Yeah, New York Here we come."

She smiled and went into the bed room, grabbed her clothes, and went into the bath room. When she came out she was wearing the Tank top the jeans and the sweat shirt tied around her waist. The jeans has grass stains around a rip in the knee and she had a tattoo on her upper arm, a small simple symbol looked like it belonged to a manufacturing agency or something off the sort, a simple spiral that was drawn in a surferish fashion.

"Bit young for Tattoos aren't you?"

"Just a bit."

She said smiling and cocking her eyebrow. She pulled her hair back with a simple elastic band; It still looked a mess. Her arms were tanned and slender, standing out brilliantly against the white tank top she wore. In all horrible truth she looked like a redneck Sigourney Weaver, in its own way charming, in more ways just plain weird.

"Take a shower, I'll clean the Kitchen."

He looked around, the kitchen wasn't too bad, all she needed to do was wash the dishes and maybe wipe down the counters. She may make a good mother, or house keeper. He took the offer anyways and got in the shower. The floor of the shower was still wet from the shower Sheila took last night. He stripped out of his night clothes and got in turning the knob a little too far and sending a red hot stream of water at himself, when it hit his skin he cursed loudly and Sheila asked if he needed any help. She was obviously joking but it was still a little unnerving.

"N-no! That won't be necessary!"

"As long as you're sure!"

Mohinder rolled his eyes and fixed the temperature, he grabbed what was left of the free shampoo and scrubbed his hair, and he felt a lot less grungy as he scrubbed the rest of him. By the time he was done with thoroughly scrubbing his body there was so much steam he could barely see the knobs, He liked to take his time. There was a knock on the door.

"Forget something?"

Before he could say anything Sheila opened the door and threw his clothes at him, he did his best to cover himself. Her hand was over her eyes though of course she was peeking.

"Hey!"

"I'm not looking!"

She said leaving and quietly closing the door behind her, letting her mind dwell on the wet, naked, Pretty Indian in the steam. Her mind was not the cleanest place; actually it was probably one of the dirtier ones. But she didn't care, not like she had Jesus to make her stop. Mohinder came out and Sheila was smiling, she couldn't help it, just too many thoughts were running through her head. Mohinder pointed at her like how a teacher would a bad student.

"That never happened."

"Of course it didn't"

She said twisting her hair around her finger and giving him Bamby eyes. A Teenager she was, a Teenager she is…And unfortunately she acts like it. Mohinder rolled his eyes again. If he wasn't more flexible with his temper she woulda been out on the road a while ago. But she amused him, made him laugh, besides she was really only playing around.

"Ay sorry, I'm just fooling around, couldn't 'elp me'self. Friends?"

She asked holding out her hand to him. Mohinder was slightly taken aback, out of America he had seen many Teens and most of them were un-willing to apologize and stubborn butt-heads. What she showed wasn't really manners but crude courtesy. He took her hand and shook it. She had packed up their stuff and had lugged some of it out to the car, he noticed she had brought his bag full of books to the back seat where she could access him, she apparently knew they were going to be on the road a while.

"If you could grab the bag with the pots and pans in it? That ones a tad heavy for this little cripple."

She said hobbling out the car, he grabbed it and put it in the open trunk, slammed the trunk shut and got in the car. He looked to his side and noticed Sheila wasn't there.

"Back 'ere."

She said giving him a small wave from the backseat. Her bad leg was elevated and she already had a book on the theory of physics open and was reading the introduction. Mohinder shrugged and started the car. It had been a while since he had human company so it was nice, even if she was being quiet. In all truth Mohinder needed someone to talk to; so many people come to talk to him yet some how he doesn't have anyone to talk to himself. After 2 hours on the road Sheila had switched books, book marking the Physics book with a scrap of paper she pulled out of her back pack. She went digging through the bag of books, probably looking for something more engrossing. She pulled out a red book with swirly gold lettering on the front. She raised an eyebrow at it.

"_Kama Sutra?"_

She thought opening the book, she looked at the book strangely, holding it at arms length, turning it sideways, upside down, and drawing it close.

"Everything okay back there?"

"Yeah everything's…oh-oh my…."

Her eyes went wide, her face turned red, and she closed the book. Mohinder looked at the book and gave himself a mental head slap; his wise ass cousin sent that to him as a birthday present 2 years ago. He really should've hidden that better.

"Uhhh, look I can explain…"

He noticed her shoulders were shaking as her face was red, her eyebrows were furrowed. She was trying really hard not to laugh, really hard not to break the mask.

"I'm really sure I don't want to know."

She said putting the book back in the bag and rifling through it again. She pulled out a paperback copy of "The Alchemists Daughter" and started reading that. After that it got kinda quiet, They stopped at a gas station and Mohinder got up to refill the gas tank, he looked at Sheila. As she read her face changed expressions with every few seconds as she read. Her eyes skimmed the page and she quickly turned pages, he had never seen anyone read so fast before, she was the most concentrated person he'd seen since his father. He remembered the time he had found his father reading and his mother snuck up behind him and suggested a little prank. Together he and his mother gathered up chairs and stacked them around his father like a pyramid only when he scooted his chair back after he was done reading and the chairs fell over did he realize what they had done. His fathers expression was priceless, he was half way to shouting and on the other hand half way to bursting out laughing. Laughing won over. Sheila would probably smack her head and clean up the chairs if he tried that on her. He paid for gas and bought a 2 liter bottle of water. Kansas heat was sweltering. He got back in the car and looked back about to offer some of the water to Sheila when she looked on the verge of tears, still reading the book.

"Sheila?"

"Hunh? Oh hey."

She wiped a tear out of the corner of her eye, returning her mask. He held the water back to her and she took it, taking a gulp and giving it back to him.

"Thanks mate."

She said giving him a smile, the corner of her mouth cracked and started to bleed a little. She felt the place where it was bleeding and put pressure on it with her shirt, Mohinder drove out and her lip stopped bleeding a little while after they exited Kansas. It wasn't going to be more than a week to New York, but so far as he had seen of her he could tell it would be nice to have a companion. Maybe as a body guard in a fight, she looked like she could swing that cane pretty hard. For reasons un-known Mohinder found himself absentmindedly looking in the backseat with his rearview mirror, in his mind he traced the defined muscles in her upper arm. Tanned Skin Sunburned, he had often found arms to be a very attractive part of the anatomy, coming second to the eyes in his mind. Not just attractive but fascinating; her arms had one of the most defined shapes he had seen, the upper arm not fleshy but clear and defined, the wrists moving slowly onto large but graceful hands. Every few minutes she'd flex her arms to work out kinks and go back to reading where she would smile, frown, raise and eyebrow, or sometimes laugh. After they had passed through a corner of Missouri she decided to actually get out and walk at one of the gas stops. She had long since finished "The Alchemists Daughter".

"Sad book don't you think?"

She asked him out of the blue, leaning on the car; looking to the sky.

"Excuse me?"

"The book, The Alchemists Daughter, didn't you think it was sad?"

Mohinder thought back to all the books he had read, and the title dawned on him. He remembered it to be very moving and yes also very sad. He had read so few Fictions it was hard to hang on to them in his mind.

"Yes, Emily had a sudden shock didn't she?"

"Yeah, poor Em' Aislabie was a real bastard."

"I know, real selfish, but they whole way the book was brought into light about the signs of fire and such to be very methodical and rather entrancing."

You should have seen the way Sheila's eyes sparkled when Mohinder talked about books that way. She was never happier to hear such admiration of fine written work. She herself was writer and a reader, but unfortunately she had no time to hone her skills so she went un-recognized as a young writer.

"Really, I found the sensual undertones and intimacy of her affections and inspiration for the rebirth of perfection to be the most enticing part."

"Yes, that was a much defined part of the story I simply would not over look but my standpoint remains firmly in place of where I find that the methodical part to be my favorite."

They filled the tank and Sheila sat in the front seat this time, not burying herself in a book this time but instead having a rather 'In-Depth' discussion about manuscript and character manipulation in the blue prints of a story. Sheila had a vast knowledge of great storytellers and artists, it surprised Mohinder that she wasn't already selling paperback novels of a few of the stories she told him about that she had written. When Mohinder had asked to hear one she proceeded to reach into her large back pack and rifle through it, he saw it was filled with binders and paper bound books. All home written. The few other things in her back pack was a survival kit, small, almost empty. A small mirror, a driver's permit, and a 40 Smith and Wesson, a rather scary looking thing.

"Jesus, is that loaded?"

"No, not yet."

She said pulling out one of the manuscripts. She put the backpack in the backseat and opened the manuscript smiling at it. Where she started to read it out loud like Mohinder had asked a few minutes earlier. The title of the book was "The Last Real Hero"

"_In this world there is one truth, no matter how long or how hard you work to be who you aren't; You will fail. To suppress your intentions and to hide your will is this same as killing yourself, you stop being you and start being something you would've hated 2 years ago. But sometimes it is necessary to put on a mask, to save the ones you love. To save yourself, even if you want to die, you must save yourself. Because if you kill what's left of you, you will disappear, forever. No one will__ remember your name, even your parents, your lover and your brothers. There is no one to go to after you've sold your soul to being a hero, moving far out to sea only to have your ship sink and never to be found. But its hard to do that, had to be lost when your like me, when you're the last real one, The last one not to hide behind a lie and fake their enthusiasm. Hard to be lost when you're the last real hero…"_

The story wove an intricate tale of a suicidal girl who everyone expects to be perfect, She has illusions of being a hero to herself, an example of perfection. A hatred of all others who try to save her consuming her attention and obsession, seeing them as fakes and only herself as the real hero. Her illusions worsened as her parents started to crush anti-psychotics into her food. She went into fits until she murdered her mother and her father, sparing her brothers. She finally wasn't being watched and she was then dawned by the thought that others needed saving. She went out and seeked people like her, perfect people and released them. Some thanked her, some screamed; some didn't even know she was there. The story ended when she was caught by the police and killed herself. She poured alcohol on herself and lit herself on fire. This story had eerie similarities and reminded him too much of Sylar. When she had finished the book it was almost midnight and they had checked into another motel.

"…_And the last thing I ever saw, the last thing I ever needed to see was the bright light of freedom consuming me, tearing me free. The one thing I wanted I had and I had saved so many. I died a happy and free soul. I died like the hero I was." _

Mohinder sucked in some air and raised his eyebrows; her skills were extraordinary, being able to portray the insanity of one as the sanity of another. Because when you're clinically insane you don't know it.

"What'd you think, good?"

"Better than good, your story is great. You portrayed the example of release and renewal perfectly as the thought of insanity is perfection. You made it sound so real."

Sheila blushed, she wasn't used to people complimenting her so thoroughly on her stories, most of them say it's great or it's wonderful but Mohinder actually got in and saw the purpose of it, explained it too. She couldn't have said it better.

"Thank you; you are obviously an accomplished reader and critique, I hope it sounded real."

She said leaning against her pillows, she was in her tank top and her jeans were rolled up to her knees. She had a big smile on her face, happy to get a positive review from her first reader.

"Yes, I just said that. How'd you come across the inspiration for this?"

Sheila bit her lower lip softly and looked to the right side, away form Mohinder. Her brows were furrowed in inner conflict, the constant struggle of reason and want. She had told him everything so far so why not?

"Well, I used to do part time work for a mental facility a few miles off my home, I would change the bedding, clean, console the patients every now and then. One day I was sitting outside and eating my lunch where a girl with ragged hair and a slight droop to her head, looking like something out of "The Ring" sat down next to me. She started to talk to me, telling me everything; how she got in here what she heard what she saw and that's when I realized these people didn't have a mind any different from ours, it still functions in the same way. They think that they are normal, what they see is what we see, just warped. And its how they see the universe, 'Sane People' may see the world in black and white but these people look at all the colors. Seeing everything and knowing everything. To them we're the insane ones and they are the normal ones, we're the outcasts. The cage, the prison keeper, the birds, we're all of those. These people think what they're doing is the right thing to do…Can you blame anyone for wanting to do the right thing?...Her name was Lily Irving, she taught me the most valuable thing in life… Everyone Is Sane."

During her little monologue Sheila had drawn her knees to her chest. Her eyebrows were furrowed and she was clutching the watch at around her neck, feeling the tick in her hands, the slight throbbing in her hands; she was steadied back into place. She still couldn't regain complete composure.

"She sounds like she's important to you."

"She's dead."

Sheila said sliding off the bed; she sat down next to Mohinder on his bed and leaned her head on his shoulder. She also slung her arm around his other shoulder.

"She burned herself alive in the court yard. We don't know how she got the gasoline but she did. She killed herself of her own accord. And right before she died, what was left of her scarred body she told me that the last person she ever wanted to save was herself. That she couldn't save me…now all I know was that I couldn't save her."

She didn't cry she didn't sniffle, she just didn't move. Everyone needs a shoulder to lean on every once in a while. This girl just never had one before.

"That must've been hard to watch. I've never had to watch anyone die in front of me, much less near me. I've only seen a dead body."

Mohinder slung his arm over her shoulder like she had him, this was an awkward moment. Peaceful but awkward, He felt like a parent or a brother comforting a scared child; it felt nice to be the person who didn't need consoling for once.

"That musta freaked you out good."

"You have no idea."

They laughed a little and Sheila gave him a light hug before proclaiming that she was going to take a shower. When she stood, she looked down at him, smiling.

"You remind me of Lily, so nice, so cool. Always in control, but yet always on edge, only difference is that your 'Sane'. How conflicting it must be."

With that she went into the bathroom, Mohinder was in state of confliction. He couldn't tell if he was given a compliment or not. Wait, did she call him cool?

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I'm sorry it took me so long to update, I've been moving so I don't have much free time Eheh! Thank you Angelic-Poison for commenting!!!! I dedicate to you this chappie!!!!


	3. Bad Dreams

I do not own Heroes

Over the days Mohinder noticed just how different Sheila was. Her habits were of normal routine, Everyday she would wake up before him, make breakfast, Sing in the kitchen, wait for him to be done eating, do this dishes while he took a shower, get dressed, get the things loaded and the car started, twigit while trying to come up with a topic for conversation; and then just spontainiously rest of the day would be random, totally and utterly different form the morning. She kept this routine except one day she did something odd. He had been driving real late and went straight to bed; he was woken up by something that sounded like a record being played at 75 RPM that turned out to be Sheila.

"Heyheyheyhey, come on get up time ta go! We gotta go the lady at the counter said we've got 40 minutes before she charges us for another day, come one everything's packed, I'll drive I've got a permit!"

"Mhmmm….you never wake me up….why are you talking like a chipmunk?"

Sheila laughed and pulled his covers off him.

"Well, I made coffee, actually it was free at the receptionists office and I had lessee…3 cups! I'm ready to move Come on we gotta go, I already paid the lady we gotta go!"

Mohinder dragged himself out of bed, he heard Sheila start the car. She was moving surprisingly fast for someone with a heavy limp in her leg.

"Meh…"

Mohinder got into the back seat of the car and Sheila looked back at him.

"You doin' okay Mate? We ready to take off? You buckled in?"

Mohinder nodded and she pulled out of the driveway, a little faster than he would've liked but she didn't bang up anything. He told her the map was in the door compartment and that she should keep on high 80. She saluted him and he became comfortable enough with her driving skills that he actually fell asleep. He was woken up by a loud screeching sound and a sharp jerk.

"What the hell was that!?"

He said, the adrenaline pumping in his veins. Sheila was breathing hard and sweating profusely. Her eyes were wide.

"Someone cut me off."

They were on ground level, he must've slept for quite a while. The road was empty, except for the car in front of them. The drivers side door opened and a rather menacing man got out, he had the same tattoo as Sheila on his upper arm but Mohinder was too busy eyeing the gun tucked into his pants to notice.

"Hold on to something."

Sheila said shifting the gears and hitting reverse. Backing up fast and then moving forward, going off road and around them. She was ahead of them by a few Kilometers; she reached into her bag and pulled out the gun.

"Sheila what's going on!?"

"Did you see what that guy was packing!?"

She asked him cocking the gun and giving it to Mohinder. She was looking very serious.

"You said this wasn't Loaded!"

"I knew you'd freak if I told you it was. Now I'm going to go talk to that guy, you're going to stay near the car, if you see anything suspicious, I want you to shoot got it? There are a lot of Carjackers out here."

She said getting out and running toward the man who had cut her off. There was muffled arguing and Sheila slapped the man; he drew the gun and aimed it at her head. Sheila froze, Mohinder got wide eyed, and he got out of the car and tried his best to figure it out in his flustered state. The Man saw him and smirked, grabbing Sheila by her hair and pushing her face into the ground he could hear the man shout.

"Put down the gun or I shoot your girlfriend!"

Mohinder looked up and nearly dropped it. He finally found the trigger and shot. It was on complete accident but he managed to hit the guy in the arm.

"Son of a Bitch!"

Those were his last words, Sheila wriggled free and kicked him in the head with her steel toed boot. Mohinder was speechless as her hands turned red and she laid them on the man. He let out a scream of agony and a horrible wet boom emitted from him as a large black hole was left in his place, Sheila out ran the sucking power and made it into the car where Mohinder had locked himself.

"I hate Car Jackers."

She said starting the car and driving the car, slowed by the vacuum of the black hole. Mohinder was still in shock and suddenly he told her to stop the car.

"What?"

"Stop the car, I need to get out just stop."

She let him out and he staggered around a little. He was trying to make sense of this, trying to convince himself that this never happened.

"How…why did…No this can't be happening…"

"What are you all bent out of shape for?"

"You-you killed a man! And I helped!!! I shot him!"

Sheila go out, he noticed she wasn't limping anymore. What was going on? Everything was out of place and odd. Nothing made sense. She put her arms around him, comforting him.

"Its okay Mohinder, We're here. Do you want something to drink?"

"What?"

Mohinder asked, pushing away,How could she think of drinking at a time like this? She frowned at him and grabbed the gun from the backseat. She aimed it at him and pulled the trigger. He was staring at the ceiling of his car.

"Do you want something to drink? We're here at the gas station."

Sheila looked at him, hovering over him like a bird of prey. He eyes fixed on his, feeling his forehead.

"You're so clammy. Do you feel okay? Did you have a nightmare?"

Mohinder shot upwards and hugged Sheila tightly. It was all a bad dream, None of it was real. He stayed, there with his eyes closed, telling himself mentally that he was alive, Sheila didn't kill him and that everything was okay. He was brought back to earth by a loud' Ahem'.

"Uh Mate, we're gettin' stares from the old folks. You okay? Want anything?"

She asked, feeling him tremble. She placed her hand on his head and stroked his hair, Softly shhing him and telling him he was okay.

"Just a bad dream. Come on you're on earth again, you're with the living."

He let go of her and she gave him a look of concern.

"I'm okay, you're right just a bad dream. Yeah, drink, drink good."

She helped him out of the car, with one hand, holding onto her cane with the other. They went in, he was still in his jammies and got an odd look from the man behind the counter.

"Rough night."

Sheila said, buying water, beef jerky, and a blow pop. Mohinder lingered around the store a bit, stretching his legs and getting air. They were in a small town probably in the middle of nowhere. Sheila got him back in the car, gave him the water and handed him the sucker.

"I don't know about you but when I was little and had nightmares, these made me feel better."

He would've liked Chai tea better but that was a bit much to ask. He unwrapped, it was green apple flavor, stuck it in his mouth. It did make him feel a little better, but he sugar probably was the reason; sugar was an upper. He finished the Sucker and some of the water. Sheila had the radio on and was singing along to it softly.

"She's a rebel, she's a saint. She's the salt of the earth and she's dangerous."

Mohinder laughed a little and Sheila turned to him. A small smile was on her face, she had gotten back on the freeway.

"Feel better Mate?"

"Yeah, I'll be ready to drive soon if you want a break."

"That'd be good but we should stop somewhere So you can change."

After they had found a place, Mohinder was in normal clothes and he was driving they went back to their conversation on character depth.

"I'm telling you Hermione will be the one to die!! She always gets the short stick, why should this time be any different!?"

"I disagree! I say that Ron will die! He's the obvious weak link and if they kill Harry, Well that's a self explanatory of vengeful letters to the editor."

Sheila rolled her eyes, she and Mohinder were never eye to eye on the subject of Books like Harry Potter, Sheila thought they didn't have enough undertone messages. Mohinder thought that they should cut down on the undertones of politics in the story; they said that it reminded him of the hierarchy in England. But either way, they thought that the story was good so it was all the same thing just on different levels. Sheila was always told that she was too critical for her own good.

"Pft! If they killed Harry then there would be overtone of tension and tragedy, something needed to offset how in the end Harry always seems to get away, it would produce trouble among fans but even so all the well read ones will see the beauty in the tragedy! Like a dying rose among a garden of blooming ones!"

They glared at each other for a split second before looking away, Sheila's mouth turned up at the corners a little and she started to snicker loudly. How stupid they were being, arguing over the future of a book series, One that was almost childish enough to be beneath them. She felt as if she was five again. Mohinder smiled too, he to saw how childish they were being.

"Let's leave it to the writer eh?"

She asked, looking out the window; her mind started to wander elsewhere when she saw a large skyscraper in the distance, she squinted her eyes, and there was no mistaking it. Empire state building, second tallest monument in the world. She grinned, New York, she had heard a lot about it but had never seen it.

"You see it too? We're almost there."

He was almost sorry that they had to arrive at their destination; he had enjoyed his time with her. Even the arguing, she always had something to talk about, even when they had talked about just about everything. Though Mohinder kept to himself, he was really a chatter box when you got close to him. Sheila found that he was also easy to predict in what he was going to say next, so she liked to finish his sentences for him. It made her feel closer to him. When they were on the outskirts of the city Sheila sucked in some air, it was huge, polluted, fast, dangerous…Fun.

"So what are we gonna do first? Where are we headed?"

She asked, not really paying attention at all. She was looking up at the huge buildings.

"Manhattan, I've got to see a Mr. Peter Petrelli about some tests I ran on him. You can meet his Niece Claire, She's around your age I think."

"Cool!"

She said, figiting around in her chair, being antsy. She could barely wait. She could stay here, get a job, maybe one of her books published. She could have her own life, she could stop leeching. When they made it to Manhattan and the house they were supposed to They got out and Sheila nearly tripped over the high curb. Her cane saved her and she hobbled forward, behind Mohinder. She was feeling a little shy, something about The size of New York and the amount of hospitality she had made her feel more and more like a temporary guest every minute. Being close to Mohinder made her feel better, Made her feel like she wasn't so small. Mohinder knocked on the door and they waited, a girl with curly blonde hair, blue eyes, and skin maybe a shade lighter than Sheila's answered the door.

"Yes?"

"I'm Mohinder Suresh, I'm looking for Peter."

"Oh come in, he's been waiting for you."

She said, letting them through, Sheila glanced at Claire from under her brows. She was very pretty, looked like the cheerleaders she had at her high school. Perfect, blonde, Beautiful; Always polite to older people.

"Hi, who're you?"

She asked Sheila. Sheila looked up and stood straight. Making herself semi presentable.

"My names Sheila Hogan, You must be Claire."

She said, softening her face, maybe she wasn't that bad. She didn't seem snobby at all.

"Yeah, I've never heard about you, are you Mohinder's Girlfriend or something?"

Sheila's face turned a light shade of red and she furrowed her eyebrows.

"I wish, Mate."

Claire laughed a little and asked her to sit down.

"Its been a while since I've talked someone my own age."

Claire said and Sheila nodded. She knew how she felt, two weeks homeless, one week in the car. No friends, hard to be kept away from society that long.

"Yeah, Know what ya mean. How old are you?"

"17."

"Me too, actually what's the date?"

Claire thought and looked at a calendar on the wall.

"June 12th, why?"

"Ah…I'm turning 18 next week."

She said smiling, an awkward silence was settled in as they sat there. Sheila twigited.

"Do you like music?"

She asked, trying her best to break the silence.

"Yeah, I like Panic At The Disco and Fall Out Boy. I also like Evanescence and a few others like that."

"I Like a little of everything, But Metal and Emo punk are my mains."

Sheila said happily.

"Ever heard of Rammstein?"

"Yeah, they're okay but I'm more of an O-Zone foreign than German Metal."

Sheila nodded; Claire seemed less callous than herself so it made sense.

"I can see that."

They got into a conversation about celebrities and performers they liked or disliked. Claire liked Things like Eminem, O-Zone, Aqua, Panic at the Disco, and stuff like that. Sheila liked, Rammstein, 50 Cent, Some of the Back Street Boys' songs, Bloc Party and Depeche Mode; her tastes clashed horribly with Claire's due to the utter randomness of them. They had stopped talking about celebrities when they hit the subject of Johnny Depp.

"So, Why are you with Mohinder anyways?"

"He found me on the side of the road, literally."

"Run Away from home?"

Sheila pursed her lips a little and sighed.

"Homeless, My house was destroyed by a black hole."

Claire snickered a little, she was either joking or she was a whack job. Or the third possibility that she was like Claire, Gifted.

"You're joking right?"

Sheila shook her head.

"Dead serious. I'm what you would call…Genetically challenged."

"Me too, I think."

Sheila smiled and raised an eyebrow.

"Oh really? What can you do then?"

"I heal."

"Uh everyone ca-"

"Really fast."

Sheila nodded in an embarrassed way. Rule number one, let people finish their sentences.

"Ah, I make black holes, but I need to be able to destroy something in order to make it. The black hole is in proportion to the mass used to destroy it….kinda a cosmic balance physics thing."

Sheila said rubbing the back of her neck. Mohinder took the opportune moment to walk into the room and save her the trouble of making conversation…again.

"We're set here, Claire, give my best to your father. I hope Sheila didn't cause trouble."

Mohinder said it jokingly enough to save himself a smack upside the head. And Claire just smiled.

" Not at all, she's actually very interesting, oh can I get your cell number?"

She asked Sheila, taking out her own Pink one.

"Uh, I don't own one…No E-mail either. But I remember where you live."

She said smiling, thinking she could keep in contact through mail. They bade their goodbyes and left.

"Anything else to do today?"

"Nope, not really, free time."

Sheila smiled a little. She reached into her bag and pulled out her two manuscripts, The Last Hero and on Mohinder hadn't heard. Teen Years, it sounded like a comedy but knowing Sheila it was probably a horror story.

"Can we stop by a publishing office, I wanna stay here and publishing my book would be a good way to go. I can drop it there and get a job, small one."

Mohinder smiled, she had a good reality stand point on this. It didn't sound like she expected to get Uber famous. A steady view of her future, realistic.

"We'll need a phone book."

Mohinder said and Sheila smiled. She was never more thankful for him to be here than she had ever been for anyone else, ever.

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If You haven't Noticed, I've Kinda Scrapped the story line. But I think it plays out better for my fan fiction this way. Plus I don't think that it's too trashy. But that's my opinion.


	4. Hello, Princess

I do not own Heroes

Short Time skip

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Sheila had managed to get her book into publishing and a job at the library, surrounded by the books she loved so much. Mohinder and her had kept in touch Claire and her were best friends. Everything was okay; she had spent the first few nights in New York sleeping on a bench in central Park. After Claire found out she let her stay with her until she got on her feet. Also Claire had forced her to go to the hospital about her leg, it was only sheer luck she hadn't died of staff infection. She was now walking comfortably if not awkwardly without her cane. Right now Sheila was walking the streets of New York alone, discovering and exploring. She had come to Meet Peter and they had very conflicting ideas and didn't get along as friends, maybe as acquaintances. The first thing Sheila had done with her paycheck was get a cell phone. She needed one. And currently hers was ringing.

"Yellow?"

She asked into it, keeping her other hand firmly in her pocket, as not to freeze off in the early morning air.

"Yes Sheila? It's Mohinder; I need to ask a favor."

"Sure, anything."

Mohinder's voice sounded panicky.

"Is everything okay?"

"No, Sylar, he's in New York. He tried to get the list and destroyed the computer. Peter's…Peters dead."

Sheila nearly dropped the phone; this had to be a joke. She didn't like Peter but she didn't want him dead.

"Please tell me your joking."

"I'm sorry, I need you to go to my apartment and get Sylars body, he's unconscious. Make sure not let your guard down."

She was stressing, Mohinder was asking her to move the unconscious body of a murderous superhuman while her best friends uncle was lying dead somewhere. She couldn't believe it. She wouldn't. These past few weeks had been filled with so much for her, a new life, and new job, her book. Nothing really prepared her for this. She hadn't used her powers for a long time, they were clumsy. Her watch was ticking, ticking, ticking along with her heart. If this man was the person who had sent him the watch…then he would be in for a nasty shock when he woke up.

"Okay….okay….J-just….I-I….Claire."

"I know, this must be a little hard for you, I know how close you and Claire are."

"Okay, I'll go just…How do I keep him down?"

"Hit him over the head with something heavy."

She sighed and he disconnected. This was a bit much for her to handle, she moved along in the opposite direction, calling a Taxi. She got one and it took her Mohinder's apartment. She hated this, hating this in the highest regard.

" Okay, be calm, be calm…."

She opened the door, left open and unlocked. She gulped and moved inside slowly, on the floor there was a big mess but No unconscious body. She cursed herself and got out her cell phone.

"Hey Mohinder, he's not here."

"You're sure?"

"Yes I'm sure..."

Unfortunately Sheila's attention was focused on her phone. She didn't feel the looming presence behind her.

"Hell, What are we going to do…Jesus!"

"We? I don't know about any we, I don't want to get my ass kill-!"

Silence, Someone had grabbed Sheila from behind, covering her mouth, making her drop her phone.

"Sheila, Sheila!!!?"

A disconnect noise went over the line, Something was wrong. Sheila was struggling to break free, screaming into the man hand, flailing wildly.

"Well who do we have here? Another Lackie? A friend of Mohinder's?..."

He turned her around, pinning her to a wall with his telekinesis, his had remained over her mouth and she was glaring at him dangerously. Her green eyes glinting and shining with life and internal fire, furious with him.

"A Princess? Hello Princess miss me much?"

"Mrph Murphmamamurph, Murph Murph!"

She said through his hand. He removed it so she could talk.

" No you Psychopathic son of a bitch, I didn't! I don't even Know you!"

He smiled at her, listening intently, he moved closer to her. Leaning in way to close.

"What are you doing?!"

He placed his head against her chest, the tick thump, tick thump noise of her heart and watch beat in his head.He got up and reached into her shirt, pulling it out.

"You took good care of it Princess; you know I made this for you. With my own two hands. It took a few days, incredibly simple really. It will run for a good few decades."

She Was breathing heavy, not sure what to say. This was the clockmaker her mother had gone to, but he had looked so nerdy back then, now he looked so much more awesome but I guess that happens when you gain the badass serial killer vibe.

"Got nothing to say eh princess? Well I'm not surprised, I'm a little shocked myself, I mean you were the last person I expected to run into. Now, may I ask what you are doing here?"

Sheila shook her head and swallowed her fear.

"I was sent here to get you."

"And why is that Princess? How do you know Mohinder?"

She pursed her lips, if her knew she had a power, he would kill her and take it. A psychopath like him has no discrimination.

"Not talking? Could you be one of the special people? One of those Heroes?"

He was getting closer and closer. Her breath was caught in her throat.

"Come on Princess, you can tell me."

"Don't call me princess."

His forehead was level with hers, his eyes his lips and everything else except his body was at the same height. She was considerably shorter than him and being held a foot off the ground and practically glued to the wall made her just a bit more level.

"I can call you whatever I want to Princess. You know when I saw you in the window that day, I knew you were special. I knew that you were perfect so I made you a watch, a clock just as perfect. In sync with your heart so it would be as special to you as you look to me. Are you as perfect?"

His lips were brushing against hers with every word. He was Psycho, a stalker, something like that to harbor such and unrequited admiration to her, she hadn't said more than a few words, okay maybe she flirted a little to humor him but that was it.

" No I'm not perfect. I'm flawed, I have no control, I have a bad temper a gash on my leg and acid reflux, I'm far from perfect, so you can stop adoring me now."

Gabriel laughed, no not Gabriel, Sylar. She was chilled to the bone by his closeness. His presence even.

"No, those things don't matter, your heart-"

He placed his head on her chest again. Listening to the steady healthy beat that was increasing rapidly, Fluttering. He smiled.

" Is, So much life in it, built so perfectly. And right now…It's beating for me."

He looked up at her, his shining brown eyes, malicious. Sheila closed her eyes, he was going to kill her, he was going to rape and kill her she could just feel it. She waited patiently for death to come.

"So scared Princess, I'm not going to hurt you."

He said it how you might say to a puppy caught in the rain, or an abused cat. She didn't like it but she couldn't moved, she couldn't make a black hole, she couldn't do anything. She only felt a pair of soft hot lips move across hers, fast and fierce, Biting, coaxing. She couldn't breath, she had to open her mouth, her nose had been stuffed by a cold she had had a few days previous. When she did he took advantage, sliding his tongue inside, she bit down hard and he had to pull back.

"That hurt, I think I'm bleeding."

He was, she could taste his salty metallic blood in her mouth, he had been so close, touched her so much, it was repulsive, no matter how good the kiss was. She felt so violated but she couldn't mope over her invasion of personal space right now she had to break free, his grip on her had loosened when she had bit down on his tongue and she started struggling again.

"No one, does that."

He said, cocking his head sideways and looking at her from under his brows. He moved close and put his hand around her throat, getting more intimate with her torture. She struggled to breathe.

"St-stop…please…can't…die…yet…"

She said struggling some more. He laughed, So feisty. He liked them like that and he kissed her again this time using his other hand to explore parts of her body she would rather have him not touch. His hands trailed up her smooth stomach, over her slightly protruding ribcage, and under her bra clip, touching the soft flesh of her breasts. She hated to admit it, she hated to, but it felt good. No one had ever touched her like that; no one had ever shown her this much physical affection. She involuntarily groaned. He pulled a way a little.

"You know Princess, I never thought I'd get to get the opportunity to touch you or anyone like this."

"Yeah, I can't imagine."

He squeezed her breast and she cried out in pain. It hurt like hell, when he released his grip some her breast throbbed incessantly.

"That hurt….why? why can't you leave me alone, I wanna leave, I wanna go home."

She said, tired of faking brave. She was breaking down, she was scared as hell.

"If your going to kill me then kill me!!! Just…just stop."

"Oh I'm not going to kill you; I'm having too much fun with you Princess. No, I have something else in mind for you."

He let her down and out of his power, She fell to her knees, trembling. Scared. He brought her to her feet and even straightened out her shirt and jacket.

"You'll see me again Princess and You won't be able to hold back. Now, get some sleep, take a shower, enjoy yourself until next time."

He kissed her forehead, she picked up her cell phone and ran. She ran and ran and ran until she was out of breath and couldn't run anymore. She stumbled and sat down on a bench, the street was empty, and no one was around. A tear leaked out of her eye, and another and another until she was crying, sobbing, breaking down. She couldn't handle it all, she passed out there on the bench. She was woken up by someone shaking her shoulder violently, asking her name over and over.

"Mhm?"

"Sheila? Oh thank god."

She opened her green eyes to the face of Mohinder. He was bent over her on the bench, looking relieved.

"Mohinder?"

"Yes, what happened? Why did you hang up?"

She thought back, her eyes were sore from crying her breast was throbbing still and her throat was sore. She felt like crap and she was tired.

"I... He…"

She couldn't say anything else, she just shook her head. Mohinder hugged her and her breast pressed against his chest, she Pushed away and grabbed her chest violently, Wincing in pain.

"What's wrong? Are you okay? Did he…He didn't-?"

She shook her head slowly, unable to say much.

"No… But…he touched me… kissed me…Psycho, it hurts…"

He hugged her again, being wary of her chest. He knew that he had sent her a watch out of admiration but he had gone insane, psycho, and those affections could lash out violently and forcefully.

"I couldn't stop him…I ran away…I'm sorry, I should've been paying attention…"

"No…Shhh…It's not your fault. It's not your fault, we'll get you home. Peters not dead, we don't know how but he's alive."

He helped her into his car, and buckled her in; she was in a state of suspended shock, unable to think or do anything. Only a few minutes into the ride home she spoke again.

"He's coming back…He said he'd come back…."

She said looking down, her hands clasped in her lap. Mohinder used one hand to drive and reached the other one over to hold her hands in his. Comforting her bet he could, she wasn't just one of his patients, she was his friend, and what had happened worried him for her. Even made him angry, he hated Sylar more than anything right now.

"Don't worry, he won't get you, your safe. You'll live."

"He won't kill me, he said he wasn't going to kill me but I wouldn't be able to hold back…he said I wouldn't be able to hold back and I won't!...I can't…"

A fat tear rolled down her already red face. She couldn't stop them she couldn't brave it; her brain was too damaged right now.

"Hold back? What does that mean? Sheila?"

She was shaking her head and crying pulling her hands from his and curling into a ball, falling asleep like that. They drove to the Petrelli home and she was carried inside by Mohinder, holding her bridal style. When he brought her inside Claire came over and brushed back hair from Sheila's face relieved to see her breathing, not needing another death scare. She helped Mohinder move her to her room, which was right next to Claire's. He told her what he believed to happen and Claire's face went red and she looked like a wet cat, ears flat against her head and bristling. She stayed with Sheila until her eyes opened.

"Claire?"

"Yeah, Mohinder brought you up here, Peters not dead, but what happened to you? To Sylar? How could Mohinder send you to get him like that, Peter couldn't beat him how could you?... No offense but you really don't have a combat ready power."

Sheila nodded and sat up.

"I'm okay, I'm not dead."

"No but you looked it."

Sheila couldn't argue, she looked at the walls of her temporary room.

"What happened?"

Sheila sighed, able to think clearly now, she gave a whole recount of what had happened. Claire listened intently, hugging her and telling her it was over, that he wouldn't get her.

"The worst part was that…that I actually enjoyed it, it felt good to be touched like that, but it was scary…I thought h was going to rape and kill me for sure but…what he did was so much worse…I'll never be able to live with this…"

She said laughing through cried out eyes and out of slight manic frustration. Claire stroked Sheila's hair and out of her face. They were great friends, very close and had a lot of fun together, punking on Celeb's exchanging anecdotes. Stuff like that, but nothing like this. Sheila hated being the rock she was, unable to hide her crease in the mud like she used to, but now…now someone had lifted her out of the river and exposed it to every one. Someone had exposed her weakness.

"I'm fine, Peter died today, I'd think that he'd need more support."

"No, he's gone through this before, he can heal like me. He can absorb people's powers. He once fell from 5 stories."

"Oi…what bunch of guys I've come across eh?"

She asked and they both laughed feebly. They rode the rest of the day out normally; Sheila gave her regards to Peter and had dinner with them, went upstairs studied for an hour. But when she got in the shower she scrubbed hard, hard enough to make her bleed in the more sensitive areas of her body all the while muttering "kill the bastard". On her breast there was a hand shaped bruise that stood out considerably. She got out of the shower after being sure she had scrubbed "the bastard" off her body. That night she slept better than she had in months.


	5. Relapse

I don't own Heroes

Left you with a rather angsty chapter earlier but I'm making it up as I go along here. So I thought it would be the way to go :P Enjoy!

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Sheila woke up smoothly as usual, rubbing her eyes and yawning loud enough to wake the dead. She pulled herself out of bed and into the bathroom so she could get herself ready for a day as a librarian for the Library of New York. She put on eyeliner, jeans, a blouse, and a casual jacket. She pulled her hair back in a pony tail and got her portfolio. She greeted Claire who was up and with Coffee, Claire knew better than to give her Coffee. She grabbed a piece of toast and rushed out of the door instead of trying to trick Claire into giving her Coffee. She Hailed a Taxi and got driven to her job instead of trying to walk there. She was still shaken and wary. They arrived and she paid the driver, running into the building just making it on time barely.

"Sorry I'm late Traffic was murder."

She said the lady behind the desk, her unofficial boss. She nodded and Sheila clocked in and started to put books away in their proper places Filing them with care and precision. Singing lightly to herself.

"The world is a vampire…Sent to Drai-ia-ian…Secret destroyers, hold you up to the plains…."

She found comfort in the musty smell of the old books, the feel of cloth and leather in the binders and the warmth of the library. She felt too comfortable, letting her guard down. Several times that day she found herself looking over her shoulder, the library was mostly empty and slightly eerie. She was alone in the long, long aisle. Noiseless, peaceful, dead. She Jumped when a voice broke in behind her.

"So, 'Sheila' How are you holding up? Ready to be rescued yet?"

Sheila turned around, no one was there. It was her mind playing tricks on her again.

"Oh come on…You know that you need to be saved. I like your book…very accurate, but you'd know now wouldn't you lovie?"

"Lily…Can't you leave me alone? I've got a life, I want to live it normally."

"You can't ever be normal Sheila, no matter how much you want to. It's because you aren't normal and will never be normal. Just give in, and please use your name it pains us to see you fake it."

Sheila sat down and sighed.

"Lily…Please I have enough troubles…Why do you choose to show up when the worst ones happen?"

"I'm here to help you make it through them, to help save you."

"How are you going to do that…I've walked that road before. I may have pointed the gun but you never pulled the trigger. You may have doused me in the gas but I never struck the match right. We're two halves of the same suicide. But I've walked off the edge now. Can't you do the same?"

"No, Only when you say your name, our name, admit who you are not who they tell you to be, that's when I'll leave."

Sheila hit the back of her head against a book shelf and smiled a little.

"Lily Irving, Lily Irving we are Lily Irving, there Happy?"

Sheila asked getting up and brushing herself off.

"Your faking again, I'll see you, a friend is coming."

With that the voice quieted itself and she heard foot steps. She picked a heavy book off the shelf in case it was Sylar. When the footsteps neared the corner she was so Self Psyched that she swung the book automatically. It made contact.

"Ow Jesus Christ!!!! What the hell is wrong with you, I come by to say Hi and you hit me in the face!!!?"

Peter Petrelli was lying on the ground, holding his nose as it healed itself. Sheila dropped next to him and started apologizing incessantly.

"I'm so sorry mate! Oh I thought you were Sylar I'm just really on edge today. Oh Jeez I'm Sorry."

"it's okay, it's okay, it stopped bleeding. Man you swing hard."

"I'm from New Zealand, you learn."

She helped him up and cleaned up his face with a tissue she had in her pocket. They talked a little while; Claire had told him what happened. Sheila didn't get mad she knew that Claire was just worried for her.

"Yeah, But I'm trying to put it away in my mind."

"Hard to forget something like that isn't it?"

"Eh, you learn to suppress stuff like that y'know."

Sheila was talking and putting away books. She had a hard time getting to top shelves so Peter lifted her up every few minutes so she could make it.

"Actually I don't."

"Well, I'm a rock so I have to, its how I was taught to live."

She said pushing her heavy book cart down the long aisles. Counting place marks taking notes and the such.

"How can you be taught to live isn't that a natural primary human function?"

"When you die you must be taught to live, that's what they do, they kill you inside it's like cleaning a hard drive, Wiping the whole system clean. They teach you how to live through their rules."

"Who's they?"

She paused, froze really, blinking a few times and putting her notes back on her trolley.

"No one."

She said quickly, moving at a brisk speed. Not looking back at Peter.

"That's what I hate about you, you always have to be hiding something, makes you look untrustworthy."

"I don't care if I'm viewed as untrustworthy by you or anyone. My life is mine to keep a secret if I want."

She said putting the books away faster and sloppier. Trying not to give anything away, she hated how her life had to be played out. It was so melodramatic.

"That's means there is something."

"N-no it doesn't!"

"Yes it does and you just stammered! You are hiding something! Why won't you just say it?"

"say what!?"

She said gulping and turning quickly, her eyes darting around, nervous. Lily was getting on her nerves, literally.

"Who you are, what you are, whatever you're so desperately hiding!?"

"I'm not hiding anything. My Name is Sheila Hogan, I'm 5'4 with red hair and green eyes, I come from New Zealand and moved to Kansas when I was 13, I can make black holes and can recite all of Edgar Allen Poe's 'The Raven' from memory. That's who I am and that's all I need people to know or see."

She said this so uniformly it's like she was actually trying to convince herself. Like she had repeated it in front of a mirror many times.

"Fine, I won't dig anymore but if you ever want to tell you know where to find me."

With that Peter turned around making fists and flicking his fingers out at the sides of his head in frustration, like how you might flick water off your hands after washing them.

"Peter?"

He turned enough to look at her.

"I don't want to be enemy's, the less questions you ask about me the better we get along. Friends K mate?"

"Yah, whatever."

He said walking out, Sheila rolled her eyes and went back to her booking. Her life was too complicated. She took her lunch break to go and walk around, check out the newspaper and that kind of thing, she looked through the ads for a place of her own. One caught her eye.

_Manhattan Loft- Painted floors, great view, $200 a month Great deal going fast!_

She circled it and called the number at the bottom. She got an appointment walk through for after she got off work. Because she was so excited the day seemed to speed by straight to the walk through. She met with the lady selling the place.

"Hello Sheila right? We'll be making a short walk through; we haven't been able to sell this place yet. Its really unfortunate."

She said leading her up the stair case up the apartment loft. When she was let inside she saw it was filled with paintings.

"The man who lived here was an artist, he's dead unfortunately."

She grimaced, she had light brown hair, blue eyes and pale skin, very European looking.

"I see…I'm liking it so far."

She was shown that the place had heat a full kitchen, bathroom and electricity. The only downside was that the place smelled like death she could live with it though. Bleach and incense should do it.

"I want it, can I have it I want it!"

"Okay I'll just get those deposit papers!"

She said wanting to sell this place fast as possible. She got the papers and Sheila quickly signed them, putting down her income and stuff, everything was perfect, she could afford it easy and it was great.

"Congrats, you get the key when I get my deposit."

She said smiling. Sheila nodded and was so glad that Friday was payday. She got her ride home and immediately went to Claire's room, jumping up and down.

"Claire guess what guess what!!"

"You had Coffee?"

"No! I got my own place!!! I found it in the papers this morning, and I signed the deposits and it's all mine on Friday!!!!An apartment in Manhattan!"

"Oh my god!! I am sooo happy for you!!! I'm going to miss you though! But who cares you've got your own place!!!"

The loud squealing caught the attention of Peter and he popped his head in.

"Whats this now?"

"Sheila got her own house!! Well apartment but still!!!"

"Cool, Happy for ya."

He said happy she was going to be out of the house, he could just tell the girl was hazard waiting to happen. The sooner out the better.

"Oh contain your enthusiasm, Mate."

She said flatly, raising a brow, Peter left the girls to squeal and gabber. It was driving him nuts. Peter was usually a pretty accepting guy but something about her set off a little alarm in his head. He just didn't trust her. He went out, the girls kept squealing, and the whole night flashed by. The next morning everyone was tired. Sheila took a sick day to catch some Z's, Claire slept till 3:00 PM and Peter came home at around noon. the whole house was full of snoring or breathing or things like that. Peter was asleep on the couch, Sheila was hanging off the side of her bed and Claire was bundled like a cat. It was like the house of Hangover. It wasn't until Mohinder knocked on the door that anyone was disturbed. He let himself in.

"Hello? Is anyone there?"

"Mhm…"

Peter said, head smushed into a pillow on the couch.

"Peter? Are you okay?"

"Long night, girls wouldn't stop squealing, Sheila got her own place…good night…"

He said going back to sleep. Mohinder was here to see Sheila anyways, he had gotten news about her house. It had not been destroyed but rather moved. He went up to her room and opened the door, slipping inside and pushing her back onto the bed he woke her.

"Who now?"

"S'me, Mohinder."

"Oh hey Mohindy…."

She said, disoriented, she kissed his forehead lightly. Mostly to say good morning.

"Uh okay, Congratulations on getting a place and your house was found on the shores of Australia. It got teleported."

Sheila woke up some at that news, she imagined her little brother coming out of the house with their dog Toto. Carrying him out and saying _"Toto…I don't think we're in Kansas anymore."_

"Oh great…Goddamned Wizard of Ozzies…."

She said lightly and groggily. She Got up and looked at herself in the mirror, her hair was a mess because she had forgotten to dry it before going to bed. She rubbed her head and Used Mohinder to steady herself.

"Ozzies?"

"Australians."

"Aren't you-?"

"New Zealand."

She said before sighing and looking closer into the bathroom mirror. Her hair was knotted and she immediately started to tug at it with a brush, cursing and snarling at it. Mohinder watched with interest, she certainly had a very colorful vocabulary. The only thing that even compared was how she moved her hands, gliding through with a certain feminine grace he could never quite apprehend. Even when frustrated, she remained the grace; maybe it was just because of how her hands were built that made it seem graceful.

"So, they alive?"

"Yes, but the thing your mother said was that you would never be allowed in their house again."

Sheila stopped brushing her hair and laid the brush down, sighing and looking at the bathroom ceiling.

"What did she really say? I know her; she wouldn't say that, it's too simple."

Mohinder looked at her, in her frozen state she looked like a statue, a rock. Willing and still, holding everything in, he could almost feel the invisible anger radiating off of her. It was rather scary.

"You want her exact words?"

He asked, skeptically.

"Yes."

Mohinder sighed and tried to summon her exact words to his memory.

" ' I will never allow that damned freak in my house ever again, not after what she did.' And I'm sorry to say that those were her exact words."

Sheila lowered her head and resumed the attack upon her hair. Brushing furiously, loosing her grace. He moved his head hoping to see her expression in the mirror. He had to crane his neck to a painful extent. He saw two shining streams on her cheeks, a flushed face and furrowed angry eyebrows, and her eyes, he couldn't even describe them; they looked as if they could burn a hole in the wall and that was the closest he could get.

"Sheila are you …crying?"

He knew full well she was, but he need to hear it from her, better to ask than to tell and aggravate her further.

"No. I'm fine. You've given me the news, you can go now right?"

She asked, clutching either side of the sink after she had dropped her brush. He saw her hands starting to glow ember and he took this as a warning sign. He took it upon himself to follow her in and lay his hand on her shoulder. Her skin was burning hot, and not like she had a fever, it was like she had been standing next to a fire for too long and too close, it was unnatural.

"Sheila, your mother isn't very accepting is she?"

"No."

"Than why bother getting frustrated over what she thinks? You are who you are why should it matter what one person thinks? Hundreds even? As long as you're happy with yourself…"

He hugged her like how a big brother might comfort a little sister.

"…What else matters?"

Her temperature cooled and her hands returned to normal, she was looking at herself in the mirror. Mohinder's arms draped over her shoulders like a piece of red-brown silk, his head buried in the crook of her neck, tired and relieved looking that she hadn't completely destroyed the bathroom sink and possibly the bathroom. She smiled; she liked how it looked, so natural for him to be standing there, for her to be with him. But what she was thinking was only a deluded fantasy that would never happen why someone as smooth and pretty as Mohinder would want to be with someone so callous? She laughed a little and stroked his hair gently.

"You're my best guy friend. You've done more for me than I could ever say; you keep saving me, keep being my hero. I could never be able to repay you probably, Why do you keep saving me when I'm beyond help, I've pointed the gun, I didn't pull the trigger though, I did this by myself. No one had to save me; I had to make it on my own. But you were there, you did. I'm going to have to light the match someday. Please when that day comes…Don't be my hero. There is still a part of me that doesn't agree with my two sided suicide. You've only made her more rebellious, she doesn't want to leave. I have to kill her. I need to kill it…"

Mohinder's eyes had gotten wider as she was talker and he had started to get scared of her. What was she talking about? What part of her why would she want to kill herself?

"Sheila what are you talking abou-?"

"The woman you talked to wasn't my mother mate."

"What?"

"She was my adoptive mother. My real one is in New Zealand somewhere…"

"And Read over my story again…You'll know then what I'm talking about."

He left in a flurry as Sheila started to brush her hair again. Slower, calmer, she was even humming. He ran out and into his car and pulled one of the manuscript copies she had made for him. He skimmed through it, he remembered something about a two sided suicide. He found it and read it over and over again, he realized now that this was a detailed description of when a memory haunts a suicidal girl, pushing her over the edge. Killing her inside and then having someone recreate her personality. He had heard of this being done to long term prisoners. They are forced to give up their identity for someone else's, being haunted by a memory of their olds selves, they go insane, not exactly split personality but instead a hallucination of a sort of ghost of their own selves. They find the passionate need to kill the old part of themselves, the ones forcing painful memories to the surface; it was a way of protecting themselves. They usually found solace in killing or hurting themselves but if not they had to retrieve there old identity in order to stop seeing their old selves.

"Dear god…"

Mohinder said closing the book and going inside, He went up to Sheila's room but the door was locked. He pounded on it.

"Damn it Sheila or whoever you are I know already! Open this door!"

This aroused Claire and Peters attention, Claire came over, rubbing her eyes.

"Wazzgoing on?"

"Too long to explain, just help me get this door open."

Clair yawned and slammed a spot next to the door handle and it clicked open. He went in slowly, cautious. He heard an empty clicking noise in the bathroom, like the snipping of scissors. He knocked on the door.

"Sheila, Please tell me it's you…Why didn't you just ell me about her, why didn't you tell me about lily? I could've gotten you help. I could've taken you the psyche ward."

The clicking stopped and the door opened. He saw her with wide eyed, slight horror. Her hair was cut short and sloppy, black ink dripped form her fingers and her hair, the sink was stained with it. Her hair looked scraggly and her head seemed to droop to one side. She had her gun in the other hand.

"No one can help me anymore…they won't let me get help…they won't let her live, she burned herself in that courtyard so long ago… I held her hand and told her I couldn't save her… I said that I didn't want to be saved. That day we died…"

She seemed to be slipping between the transitions of Sheila and Lily. Moving between their personalities, Maybe Lily was merely an excuse of her old self.

"Mother forced me into my names and my clothes…she tortured her so much… she made he into me…now she won't leave me alone until I let her out…She won't leave me alone…Until I complete my two sided suicide."

She said pointing the gun at her head, from her angle she could only see Mohinder. But Claire had snuck in and was seeing everything; she now saw that Sheila was a very sick person. She had woken up completely and was moving towards the bathroom, out of Sheila's realm of vision. She moved like a cat and right as Sheila closed her eyes to pull the trigger Claire grabbed the gun out of her hands. Partly at least, Mohinder had seen Claire sneaking and wasn't worried the worst that could happen was that Claire could get shot in the process and she would regenerate quickly. Sheila clawed at Claire for the gun.

"Give it back, Give it back now!!"

"I'm Sorry."

Claire Hit Sheila in the face with all her strength, there was a nasty crunching sound and they could tell that Sheila's nose had broken. She let go of the gun and Grabbed her nose, Blood gushed from between her fingers. She looked at it and somehow it brought her back to her senses. Maybe she felt she had shot herself and this was the blood, maybe it was the pain but either way she cursed loudly.

"Ah Fuck!!! What the hell is wrong with you!? What did you do that for!?... Why are my hands covered in ink?"

She asked looking at them before grabbing tissues from the bathroom, she felt her hair, Sopping wet with Ink. She looked in the Mirror, a 14 year old version of herself looked back, black, short, scraggly hair.

"Ah…Fuck. It happened again…I'm really sorry you had to see that… Jesus…I need to get my prescriptions filled…"

She said placing her nose in its original setting. Watching the bleeding stop a little.

"You really clocked me there! Good shot Claire!"

She said giving the thumbs up with one hand and holding her nose in place with the other. So odd. Claire gave her a weird looked and bustled out of the room with the gun, hiding it in her room somewhere. Hoping Sheila would never find it.

"Okay, first… You need to get out, second you need to wash your hair, third…We need to get you to a psychologist."

Mohinder and Claire said the last part in unison. They felt a lot better 'cause Sheila seemed to be back to her normal self, but they had to be wary. She might go over the edge again at any time. Such a tedious thing Mohinder had found on the road. Who knew she could go into such a relapse?

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I know its being weird but I'm feeling weird! Such and odd thing I am sometimes, anyways, I hope you like the story byiyi!!!


	6. The Bad Haircut

I do not own Heroes

Sheila was scrubbing the Ink out of her hair in the sink. Claire was assisting best she could, but it was staying put, turning her hair an ugly grayish red. They both grimaced as she looked in the mirror. They tried everything but nothing got that Ink out. Her hands were stained black and she smelled like chemicals.

"What did you use!?"

Claire asked while scrubbing Sheila's hair with frustration. It was painful but some of the ink was coming out…some.

"Permanent Marker!"

She said gesturing to a broken Sharpie tossed in the waste basket. Claire gave up and looked at her, she was a mess. Her hair was uneven and messy, looking like she had it soaked in some horrible product that dulled her hair to the worst of conditions. Claire quickly decided it was time for a hair cut. She couldn't go to work like that, she'd be fired.

"Put something presentable on, haircut time."

She said tossing a sweatshirt with a hood on it at Sheila; she pulled the Jacket on and the hood up. They left the house quietly, Mohinder and Peter having coffee at the table not noticing anything. They got into the car belonging to Peter and Claire and zoomed off quickly. Claire took her to the little Salon off the avenue called, 'Preternatural' they went in and one of the barbers recognized Claire.

"Hey Claire, who's your friend?"

"Oh hey Jake. This is Sheila; we've got a small hair emergency."

The place was practically empty; it was very chic and comfortable looking, probably not well known though. With out her knowing Claire pulled down her hood. Jake gave a look of dismay.

"Did she try to cut her hair herself?"

"Yes."

"Poor thing."

Jake led a slightly insulted Sheila onto of the cushy chairs. Claire dropped a book of hairstyles in her lap.

"Choose, now."

Sheila opened the book and looked through. She knew nothing about style and beauty. The most she could do was brush her hair and put on eyeliner. That was about it.

"This one?"

"Ugly."

"This one?"

"Not enough hair for that."

"How bout' this one?"

"Oh no, your face is much too slender for that."

"Fine you choose for me!!"

Sheila said throwing her hands in the air. Claire searched through and checked with Jake, they decided on something and Jake brought out another book filled with hair colors.

"Choose."

"This?"

"Purple?...nah…not you."

"This?"

"No you'd look like a traffic cone."

"Choose!"

Sheila said deciding that she knew nothing and that Claire knew everything. To be honest she didn't trust herself with hairstyles or anything else to do with beauty. Claire was much more qualified to deal with things like that. She then heard the words 'hair bleaching' and flinched.

"Now lay back and relax honey…This is going to sting."

About an hour later Jake let her see herself in the mirror, she let out an ear piercing scream. Her hair was cut straight and short, bright red and with bangs, her ears were exposed and she had a hairstyle similar to that of a Manga Princess. It looked bad. It looked very bad.

"Dear sweet Jesus!!!! What the hell did you do to me!!!?"

Jake grimaced, He could feel the horror this girl was in, and Claire had not done the best job in picking hairstyles for her.

"Well honey, I did the best I could under the circumstances, I could fix it for you."

"No!!! Do not come near my hair, pay the man Claire and let's get home!"

She said storming out, Claire gave Jake her credit card and paid, she followed her out. Sheila had her hood up and was sulking in the car.

"Oh it's not that bad."

She said pulling the hood back.

"Are you kidding me? I look like I tried doing a bad Manga impression…."

"Oh don't worry it'll grow out."

She said smiling a little, in her heart she knew it was a bad hair cut. They drove home and Sheila pulled the hood on over her head and went inside quickly. She went into the kitchen where Mohinder and Peter were having coffee. She went in the fridge and pulled out a soda. She snapped it open and gulped it down. Peter and Mohinder watched her progression, she seemed to be radiating frustration and they could feel it. Claire came in the kitchen and sighed.

"Take the hood off already!"

"No!"

Claire came over and wrestled the hood off and the two men watched this amusedly like how cats watch a tennis rally. They then had to suppress laughter at Sheila's haircut. Peter was the first to crack and he burst out laughing.

"What happened to you!?"

"Yeah you look like a Manga Character."

Mohinder said after, smiling and sipping his coffee, his day had just brightened considerably. He was usually a very polite man but this was just too amusing to turn down for sympathy.

"Oh shove it!"

Sheila said flipping them off and rushing off upstairs, Claire following briskly behind her.

"Sheila where are you going!? What are you doing with those scissors!?"

There was the slamming of a door and Peter and Mohinder burst out laughing. Sheila was the source of worry and amusement in this house, but amusement most of the time outweighed the worry. Claire was still pounding on the door.

"Sheila!! You'll just ruin your hair!! Sheila, are you listening!?"

"Yes."

Sheila walked out; her hair was boy short, her ears exposed, curling up the nape of her neck, sticking out in odd and spunky directions. In 10 minutes she went from bad hair cut to badass. She looked Like Domino but with red hair and green eyes.

"How is it?"

"It's so…Uneven…"

She said looking at the hacked edges. Sheila was now officially punk.

"No one will ever see it as fashionable in any way, you just look kinda, I dunno …Trailer Punk."

Trailer Punk, now that was new. Sheila laughed a little and stood hand on hip she was a tall girl and had Claire by at least three inches. She looked down at her.

"So what, your not gonna let me leave the house? Not until my hair grows back?"

"Maybe."

Sheila cocked an eyebrow and smiled at her, she started laughing. Claire was confused, very confused, what the hell was going on here?

"You know Mohinder will probably think it trailer trash."

Sheila raised an eyebrow. Claire was happy it had been so long since she had trivial things to worry herself over like this, she had forgotten how fun it was. Sheila was enjoying it too, for the first time in her life she felt like she was young, not some 40 year old with a dramatic crush and a strong temperament. She felt young and silly, she felt 18.

"Move aside cupcake."

She said pushing Claire to one side with her index finger. Still smiling she strolled downstairs and into the kitchen, Claire was shouting at her all the way down.

"I'm telling you he's not gonna-!"

Claire couldn't even finish her sentence she knew that Sheila had an immeasurable thing for Mohinder and she didn't think that Trailer Punk was going to be his style. But Mohinder was looking up, mouth slightly agape, eyebrows raised. He was always polite when it came to these things but right now he was flabbergasted, short hair fit her like a spandex glove does a hand. It showed her pierced ears and just brushed her eyes, uneven and choppy, very free looking. Peter let out a whistle that went from high to low. Smiling, he looked back down to his coffee.

"Nice hair cut, very real."

Sheila didn't even have to say anything; she just flicked one of her eyebrows up and smiled, turning back to Claire.

"You owe me a coke, cupcake."

She said pressing Claire's nose like button.

"Hey I never agreed to that!!! And since when am I 'Cupcake'!?"

Claire shouted up at Sheila from the bottom of the stair case. Claire followed her up and Peter raised his eyebrows. He looked at Mohinder.

"That's some girlfriend you got there."

"She's not my girlfriend..."

"Yet? You were going to add yet there right?"

Mohinder sputtered.

"No!"

"You talk about her like she is your girlfriend, she's legal you know."

"Peter I've never heard you speak like this before."

"Well you've never actually had a casual conversation with me either so that goes to show."

Mohinder looked down into his coffee, thinking over. He did think about her a lot, she had made an impression on him; she gave him a crash course on human frailty. Unfortunately it involved her trying to shoot herself. His fear of not trusting her was gone, he had told her something's that he would tell nobody else who didn't already know…of course he was drunk at the time so it really didn't count. She had told him deep things about herself, things no one would ever guess about her. For one, she was a virgin; he never would have guessed it the way she talked about sex and passion in her stories. Two she enjoyed sewing and singing, not super hard rock singing but real soft songs like Walking after Midnight by Pasty Cline, she also like Elvis Costello. He had told her about some very personal things like his ideal girl, his fears, and his wants. Like how he was afraid of evil psycho killers named Sylar and small closed spaces. He had also told her of previous attractions, he never questioned his sexuality much, he knew what and who he was attracted to and preferred not to put a name on it. Some of them were male some were female all he knew was that he found them very attractive. Back when he was still in school as a boy there was another boy in his class, his face was smooth and slender, the corners of his eyes tilted slightly, his hair was worn wild and short, a shock of it fell across his eyes always so that they just peered out shyly. His arms were slender underneath the long baggy sleeves of his coat and he had a slender body. No girl paid him any attention; they found him to be painfully shy and un-masculine. He was always kind and never spoke out of turn. Mohinder had often found himself having very fond thoughts of this boy. They were friends for a while; they often had very intimate conversations about their lives and their feelings. It escalated after while and they were more than friends, more than best friends. After while the boy stopped talking to Mohinder and got a girlfriend, though he was very unhappy with her. Mohinder experimented a lot more as he got older and never quite placed a name on his sexuality. Sheila was Bi-sexual, she had told him this a few times in a drunken slur.

"Yo, earth to Mohinder."

Peter said waving his hand non-chalantly in front of Mohinder's face. Mohinder snapped to attention.

"Oh yeah, Well she is very…very…I don't think there's a word for it."

"Ornery? Trailer Punk?"

He asked using a term he had heard Claire use when she one referred to a actress in one of her soaps.

"No…and trailer punk?"

"Never mind, just throwing it out there."

"Okay…well I'd have to say that the closest I could come to would be…"

He tried to think of a word, he looked her over in his head looked over her personality and then her eyes just seemed to stand out to him, they were coated with a serious and entrancing gaze, something about them kind of undead. Kind of like her black holes.

"I would have to say, there's a phrase but not a word. 'Suck the Life Out of You'."

Peter couldn't disagree but also couldn't stop laughing at the irony of it. Suck the Life Out of You was just enough to trigger the pervert response in any males head except maybe Mohinder. He just gave a half hearted giggle. They finished their coffee and Mohinder left with a few well spoken words. The rest of the day was uneventful except when Sheila tried to cut Claire's hair. That turned out disastrous and after that chase they all slept well. Friday came and went and Sheila finally paid the deposit and had the apartment to herself which she celebrated with lots of bubbly shrieking.

"EEEEEEEEE!!!!!! I HAVE MY OWN PLACE!!!!! FINALLY!!!"

She shouted at the top of her lungs. She immediately started unpacking her few possessions. The landlord let her keep the stuff left there, like all of Isaac's stuff, she got everything because he hadn't left it to anyone and it came with the property. She had taken her luck with a few paintings, gasping at their beauty and rifling through them like no tomorrow. She read his comics and looked through his paints and books. She resigned to put the paintings in storage until she could think of what to do with them. Only a few blank canvases and some art supplies remained after she was done with them. There was also a full kitchen and a queen sized bed that looked out over New York. She smiled out at New York, from the bed the night after she got the place to herself with out her landlord knocking every five minutes to ask how she was doing. It was beautiful, that night she slept like a baby. But she had no idea what would trouble her and what that Bed would soon be seeing.

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Feeling girly and Melodramatic about my stories lately so yeah, enjoy my drama queeness!


	7. Murderer

I do not own Heroes

Books, Books, Books…That's all you could see. That's how she liked it. She inhaled the deep scent of the aged paper that surrounded her. A lingering scent of Jasmine whispered across it. There she sat in her perfect haven dark and deep, secluded. Her black hair washing across her face, and her white hospital gown crumpling at her waist, so full of starch that she could barely move it. She smiled knowing the pain she inflicted upon this poor girl, still alive, still thriving. Controlling and unwilling to die.

"Why don't you give up? Why do you keep suffering like this? What's the point?"

Lily smiled; her little resting spot in the back of Sheila's head was very comfortable one. Dark and warm; no not warm, hot, burning hot, hell. Lily crumpled her nose as the scent of Jasmine got stronger mixing with cinnamon and sandalwood. She found it to be repulsing. But if Sheila knew how to do one thing it was repulsing Lily. Lily could do the same thing to Sheila, Lily wanted Sheila to herself, she wanted to keep her and kill her so she could take over and live again. Sheila was still herself at her job. Filing books, calm as ever.

"Because, I can take it. It's worth it to get rid of you."

She said quietly, students were rushing about taking out book, studying and reading. Boys desperately searching for a few old playboys in the magazine section. She smiled and hummed, her heart and emotions were killing her, and her head was throbbing, but her mask stayed in place.

"Oh, all high and mighty you are. With your new haircut and your stalker."

"Oh, all high and mighty you are. Living like a parasite in the back of my head."

"Touché"

Lily said grudgingly. She pulled her knees to her chest and smiled again.

"So how about that Mohinder? And Sylar? Which one do you want to fuck more?"

Sheila sucked on her teeth and bit her lip. When did Lily become crude? Lily was always so sweet and kind?

"Why?"

"Just want to know, I can't read your thoughts, I am one person, my own being separate from you. Tell me."

Sheila glared down at a book like it was Lily.

"I won't tell you."

"Why not?"

"Because, I want it to be a surprise to you. And stop being so crude you're starting act like me."

"Oh what a shame."

After that Lily remained silent for a while. Most of the day actually, Sheila's headache went away and she continued to file, humming and smiling like a good librarian. Inside she felt horrible, she felt like she was gonna cry or puke or something. Some horrible twisting feeling like Lily was grabbing her heart and stomach and twisting them around inside her. She looked at the clock, lunchtime. She went out to grab food; the cold New York City air stung her ears and nose. It was bracing and refreshing. She walked straight past restaurants and take out places, straight into central park. She sat in front of the lake, the park was empty, rain was going to come soon and no body wanted to be caught in it. Tears tried to force their way to the surface but she wouldn't, she would just keep that euphoric smile on her face, fooling herself, fooling everyone. She did everything she could to keep herself that way, she thought of Mohinder, when she first came to New York, when she met Claire. Nothing could alleviate this though. It helped but not completely. She thought of Sylar, he had been Gabriel; he had been someone then turned into someone else…maybe that's why he was as problematic as her. Hot tears spilled down her still smiling face. Rain joined it and her mask broke. Shattered before her, almost to never be used again. What did she feel? Who was she? When the mask was broken she had to look at everything she was trying to hide. If she didn't grab hold of herself she would be thrown right back in the loony bin.

"Why?...I need help…I need something…"

She said running her hand through her wet hair, rain beat down on her like a drum. Heavy and cold, she looked at the sky and said quietly.

"Behind every storm there is a sunny day."

She laid back on the bench, she was already soaked, it made no difference. She probably looked dead, lying there all limp and pale, soaked to the bone, she didn't care. She felt her lips turning blue in the cold, she was starting to shiver. She didn't move, she though of this as purification. Rain helped her think. She closed her eyes and slipped off into suspended state between dream world and reality. Utter clarity, she sorted everything out best she could, Placing things into different categories in her mind. Mohinder and Sylar went under the 'Standing by for Processing' place mark. And everything else went under 'Utter Rubbish'. Funny how she still felt like crap after the half assed job of sorting things out. She felt a hand on her shoulder and she opened her eyes.

"Hm?"

She asked looking up, a man with a round soft face, light stubble and black hair. Very caring looking, like a big brother or maybe a dad. He had a look of slight concern on his face he was holding his umbrella over both of them.

"Are you okay? Your lips are blue."

Sheila sat bolt upright and put her fingers to her lips, they were numb too.

"Oh…I think I'm okay…"

She said getting up and feeling very heavy and soggy. Rain was still beating down hard and she pulled her jacket over her tightly to hide her uniform white blouse.

"Are you sure? How long have you been out here? You could get hypothermia."

Sheila gave a small smile; it was all she could manage. She definitely wasn't okay but she was still breathing and walking and talking she'd be just fine. At least that's what she thought.

"I don't know, I left for lunch at 12:00…."

She said shaking her head. The man checked his watch.

"You've been out here for three hours. You should go home before you freeze to death."

"Yeah, works over anyways."

As if she couldn't get anymore pathetic she started to cough. She tried to suppress it.

"Damn it…"

She said lightly and standing up straight. Making sure she didn't look as pathetic as she felt.

"I'm fine, Thank you for asking, I'll be going."

She said briskly, walking past him. He gave her a look like her could see through her weak attempt at hiding the weakness.

"What's your name?"

He asked smiling lightly.

"Sheila, Sheila Hogan."

"Matt Parkman."

She turned and smiled a little Matt, it fit him. To her he looked like a teddy bear, something she could hug and squeeze until he squeaked. She thought about that and it made her giggle mentally.

"Nice to meet you Matt."

"Do you have a car? I could give you a ride home."

"Thanks. I'm just coming across all kinds of people who feel the need to save my sorry little ass."

She said smiling a little and crossing her arms over her chest a little. Her red hair stuck to her face and she looked like a puppy left out in the cold too long. Matt laughed, she looked a little down on her luck but 3 hours in the rain will do that to a person. Sheila felt like the day she did when she met Mohinder, maybe it was just her destiny to be Cinderella.

"I can't imagine."

She followed him, she had pepper spray in her pocket, a stiletto in her bra, and she felt safe traveling with strangers. Matt seemed trust worthy enough but he kept giving her strange glances as she walked next to him, it was freaking her out. When they got in the car he finally said something.

"Your powers…you make black holes?"

Sheila's eyes widened enough to rival a giant squids, she started for the door handle but matt grabbed her hand. He gave her a gentle look.

"It's okay, I'm not gonna hurt you. I'm like you."

Sheila calmed down a little, and put her hands in her lap, Matt started the car. She gulped a little.

"You can read minds?"

"Yeah, how'd you know?"

"How else would you know, the only people who know are Peter, Claire, and Mohinder."

"I see. Systematic thinking. I know it all, I'm a cop."

Sheila's eyes widened again and she kept a tight hold on her wallet that contained a fake I.D., she wasn't the most law abiding citizen on earth. She was 18 and a constant drunk, she had destroyed her house, and set a few things on fire she shouldn't have…like her school. She turned red and turned away, she knew he could hear her thoughts, nothing about her was safe, she felt really exposed knowing not even her thoughts were safe in this car. But what scared her most was Lily, lily was up there and if Matt stumbled onto her he would be the one in trouble not her.

"It's okay I'm not going to scour your brain for lost thoughts, and I'm not on duty, I don't even live here."

"It's not me I'm worried about."

She said looking him in the face, her hair had started to dry off and it frizzed a little bit, she was still soaked to her underwear, and she still looked like a lost puppy. She made a mistake by saying that, now he just wanted to find out what it was about. He did a quickly once through on her thoughts and like static fuzz on a radio a small distinct voice wormed its way through to his attention it started small and got louder it sounded odd. A little distorted at first but getting clearer.

"_Geb oud…. get oub….. Get out! Get out! Get out!!!!!"_

Matt slammed on the brakes, he wasn't paying attention, a loud '_Scree!'_ woke him from his scour. Sheila screamed, they nearly hit another car on a narrow intersection. They were both breathing heavily and trying not to freak, after a bit a low giggle came from Sheila's throat and turned into laughter. Matt was trying to tell whether she was nuts or if she had hit her head. The voice in her head that was actually aware of his presence told him she was crazy, she he kept his hand on his gun which was in his pocket.

"I'm sorry, I mean, Oh my god! What a rush!"

She said looking for the handle of the door, she wanted out the laughter was a little involuntary. It was half her half Lily. Lily likes seeing her being scared and she was just nervous. Her excuse was half baked and made her sound like a thrill seeking, adrenaline freak. Which she kinda was but not to the extremes, a bar fight was good enough for her.

"No, don't, you're not going anywhere. Your psycho, I heard that voice and don't think I didn't and I know you're lying!"

"let me leave please, I don't want to hurt you! I don't want to hurt me, please, if you have any decency, if you can read my thoughts you'll know I'm not lying. Just let me go and forget you ever met me it's just…Bye!"

She yanked her hand from his grip, he didn't even realize that he grabbed her wrist, and ran. She opened the door and ran out into the middle of traffic, dodging cars and running onto the street, running until she couldn't. She found herself at her apartment, how she didn't know, how long she ran, she didn't know. All she knew was that she was glad to have clothes a shower and a bed. She hated Lily she hated her with every fiber of her being. What she hated most is that Lily was her, she used to be Lily. _Lily_ was selfish, _Lily_ was aggressive, _Lily_ didn't want to let go, _Lily_ liked her home, _Lily_ didn't want to leave. As Sheila stood in the shower, she thought herself over and decided to kill Lily tonight; Mohinder had once told her that she was strong, that she had endured more than anyone he had ever known and that Lily was merely something she could overcome and that she didn't have to sink to Lily's level. But she didn't care, she wanted to sink down to her level, play dirty…and that's when it hit her. Lily was Chaste, Lily was virgin and so was Sheila. Lily was also very picky, she had planned to save herself until marriage and Sheila knew just how to get rid of her. She needed a murderer, a murderer who was fond of her, who would do what she asked, she needed Sylar.

"_Don't you even think it!"_

"Think what Lily dear?"

"_That!! You're planning on getting rid of me by sleeping with that-that disgusting killer!!!"_

"Maybe I am."

"_You, Oh I don't even have a name for it!!!! You will die, you will!!!I hate you!!"_

"I hate you too Lily dear, now time for heavy drinking and numbification."

She said getting out of the shower and scouring her closet, she had never been so cheerful. The Merry Murderer…well she really wouldn't be murdering Lily, Sylar would, and Sheila really wouldn't be hiring him as a hit man, she'd be more enlisting him as an escort. She dried her hair and ate some dinner. She was wearing a tight black dress made out of something at felt like plastic but was really velvet; she swore they just line them with melted soda bottles. She grabbed a black shawl and her fake I.D.; Sheila felt like she was walking on air as she went out, grabbing her umbrella at the door and stepping out into the rain.

"Walking on sunshine I'm walkin' on sunshine who-hoa! Makes me feel good!!!"

She sang loudly and walking into a bar that was few blocks down. She had fun, drinking whisky, rum, and a few other oddly colored beverages that she had a hard time pronouncing through her drunken slurr. She stumbled out of the bar, carrying a bottle of rum, swigging from it ever few stumbled steps.

"Hey Shylahr!!!!! Hey yeah!!! I know you can hear me you shon of Biath!!!! I'm tired of it!!! I need your help!!! Just please…don't leave me…"

She said going into a drunken breakdown falling flat on her face after hitting a crack in the sidewalk of the back alley she was taking. It was slick and dirty, she looked at someone's feet, and they were off white sneakers that were scuffed up from use.

"You'll drink yourself to death."

He said kneeling down and pulling her up by the front of her dress and dusting her off. After wiping street grime from the tip of her nose he kissed her very deeply. Less rough than he had in the apartment, softer, more compassionate. He learned that if you scare it, it runs. Fast learner. She complied, kissing him back, her mouth tasted like liquor and cocktail onions. The drunk's breath freshener, she was rough though, biting his lip and grabbing his face hard, almost bruising it. He was holding her by the waist; if one of them wasn't drunk they would've had their fun in that alley way but Sylar had the sense to coax her back to her apartment. When he opened the door it took him a few seconds to recognize it. He froze for a bit.

"Mmmm?...Wazzup? Are you okay?"

Sheila asked swigging from her rum bottle.

"I killed a man here."

He said excitedly, smiling and peeling off Sheila's shawl, throwing it in a corner. Her black dress fit like cellophane and for the first time he noticed just how short her hair was.

"What'd you do? Loose a fight with a weed whacker?"

He asked running his hand through it and frowned; he would have a hard time holding onto hair this short. Sheila stuck out her lower lip and flushed even deeper than she had been from her drunken state.

"Oh shaddup and loose the clothes!"

She said putting down her bottle of liquor and tackling him. Determined. What happen was a hot, drunk barrage of Murder. Sheila's head was filled with a horrible screaming, loud and piercing, was it her? Was it Lily? Who? She wouldn't stop, she wouldn't give in, she felt hot, burning…On fire. When she closed her eyes she saw fire, bright lights behind her eyes, or was it just her bangs? Sylars touch was hot and whispery, like the licks of burning fire, she realized then that Lily was dying, consumed by fire like how her story had told, she now knew exactly what she was writing about. She could breathe, it was over. They lay there on the floor on the explosion painted there, naked, exposed. Sylar got up and looked down; Sheila had a crestfallen look in her face, almost dead. For a second he wondered if he had accidentally killed her. He saw her chest rise and fall slowly, her breasts were small and proportioned to her body perfectly, her arms delicate and willowy, her legs thin. When she was sprawled like that she looked like a fairy that had lost it's wings and fallen.

"Sylar?"

She asked, her eyes glazed and her face serene.

"yeah?"

"Thank you…for killing her."

She said, leaving him puzzled, Kill who? He hadn't killed anyone; He decided she had simply had too much to drink and that she needed to drink a lot of water and sleep.

"Sure thing Princess."

He said lifting her up and placing her on her bed, she fell softly onto the white comforter, her tan skin and red hair standing out brilliantly against it. She nearly nodded off, Sylar quickly pulled on a robe he found on the floor that was about half a size too small for him and grabbed her some water. He may be Psycho but he was still logical and rather caring. He brought it back to her and woke her up.

"Hey, you don't want a hang over tomorrow do you?"

He asked handing her the water. She drank it down spilling a little onto her chest, he smiled as she looked at him, curling into a fetal position and smiling lightly. She kissed his forehead and fell asleep. If it was any other time, he'd be scared she got pregnant but he was pretty sure she had it under control considering that he had seen the anti pregnancy "Quick Dissolve" strips on her table. Right now he felt pretty good about himself, a beautiful girl he liked had just willingly, if not imperatively had, had sex with him, she was smiling and he was ready to go to sleep. He took off the robe and crawled into bed with her, holding her around the waist, her body perfectly fitting into the curve of his. Like that he fell asleep, cool air washing over him, heat radiating from Sheila, right then he felt like nothing bad could ever happen, he fell asleep and for once he didn't have a nightmare.

!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!

Hope you liked it, I know it's been a little dull lately but I really need some inspiration to tide me over until I can finally break in an old Idea I had.


	8. Long Way Down

I Don't Own Heroes

Sheila, lay crying on her bed. Sylar was asleep still, still holding her like some precious treasure, softly. She can't believe she had done this, she can't believe she wanted to do this. Flesh hot and burning, this man repulsed her, taking lives cruelly and in granted pleasure, Slaughtering humans. She felt like puking, she had touched him and he had touched her, being close as can be, and what's worse. She had enjoyed it. She liked his murderous tendencies; she liked this psychopathic son of a bitch! His breath was hot on her neck and the stubble of a beard he had roughly brushed her shoulder, his hands laid softly on her stomach, he surrounded her like a shield, something warm and soft and protective. He had murdered her and at the same time brought her to life. He was a knife to her and every time he would plunge not into her but instead into Lily's heart. The tears form her face dried, this wasn't so bad. Yeah Mohinder was great and hot as hell but He would never like her like this would he? Never want to be so close to something so course, so unrefined, so…Tainted. She got up slowly, not waking the man next to her. Her bare skin burned against the cold night's air, she stretched and didn't take any of her Nakedness into account. She stepped out onto the large balcony and looked over the edge, no one could see her, and she was 24 stories up and the rest of the world she felt, was below her. She was standing on a cloud, not and angel more over a spirit. She felt the cold air take her breath away ask it blew against her, She coughed a few times, she knew she had caught a cold form being in the rain so long the previous afternoon. Soft whispers of fog and rain dotted her face. She felt spoiled somehow. Like some Melo dramatic Princess from a Disney movie, then she remembered. Oh Yeah, Cinderella. She looked down at the ground again. How far down? How long would it take to get to the bottom? 5 minutes? 5 seconds? She tore herself away from the edge, she had just freed herself from Lily the very thing that made her think like that, so why was she still thinking about it?

"Dammit…"

She said looking up at the cloudy sky, She felt something watching her, someone. She knew it was Sylar. He had come up behind her obviously he had seen the thought process and decided it was time for an Intervention.

"Hey Princess…How are you?"

He asked wrapping his arms around her waist; He too had not taken into account his "Au Natural" State. Sylar was a tall guy around 6'2 so when he held her his arms came up to just under her breasts.

"Fine."

Sheila said a little too Cooley for it to be true. Sylar felt this was a bit odd, not in a bad way just, kind of intoxicating. She smelled like Cinnamon and Sandalwood, she smelled like him. Her hair was mussed and knotted in the back. He was surprised at how bony her ribcage felt under his fingers.

"You sure, I saw you thinking there, long way down hunh?"

He asked burrowing his face into her hair; it was thick and soft and matted. Her arms crept above her head and over his shoulders, interlacing her fingers at the back of his neck.

"Yeah. Long way down."

She said feeling how he had been careful to say it gently. He didn't want to scare her away again, He didn't want to break her. Ever since she was picked up by Mohinder, ever since she had trailed away from the Haven of her home she had been bringing nothing but confusion into her life. She had been swept into everything. She was swept into city life, she was swept into insanity, she was sure as hell swept into being an adult, she was also swept into certain passions she didn't need and didn't really understand. The perverse delight of seeing Mohinder naked was just her 17 year old self being, well, 17. but she had never had such a pull towards anyone she had never felt like she could be tied down like that. She never thought that anyone would be able to overcome 'Sheila the Rock' as her classmates called her after she refused to share a bed with the hottest, most womanizing boy of the school. She started to be home schooled not long after. But no girl in that school would ever be able to compare to this.

"Loosing you there, what are you thinking about?"

"…High school, a boy once offered to sleep with me, hottest kid in the school…I had nothing stirring in me for him not even lust. I was known as 'Sheila the Rock' for a good while afterward."

"So what, am I a special case?"

"You pursued me, remember? You sent me a heart shaped watch, you stalked me for while I was in New York. You thought I was 'Perfect' as you put it."

Sylar smiled, she was right, she had some kind of magnetism to her. He remembered sizing her wrist for a certain watch she was looking at in the window and feeling her pulse, when he touched her wrist he felt it beat smooth and heavy, he saw her fingers move mechanically and perfectly. He had found plenty of other women to be attractive, but wouldn't give him a second glance. He had told her she had lovely hands and he felt her pulse flutter. That's the moment he knew she was perfect. She on the other hand found it mildly creepy.

"Well you are, your perfectly constructed."

"Physically maybe…but I'm not what you'd call desirable in modern society."

She said sighing, she was getting cold so she went inside. Sylar followed suite.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"People date me through pity, Look at me, I have a flat chest, and I'm bony as hell, Not to mention I'm Psycho.''

She paused on the last part and Looked at Sylar.

"Never mind I'm perfectly sane."

"Eh? Never mind, well they don't like that's their problem. I do, Just goes to show."

"Show what?"

"You wouldn't understand…You're…Perfectly Sane."

He said with a smile. Sheila rolled her eyes and grabbed her robe off the floor. She wrapped it around herself and threw Sylar's pants at him. She was starting to feel a little nervous, what if Mohinder found out? What if Claire? She'd pitch a fit and Murder Sheila.

"You shouldn't stay long."

She said dully, grabbing her Rum bottle off the counter, weighing her options. Sylar pulled on the pants but didn't make a move for the door.

"What's with you?"

"Nothing, it's just…I suddenly feel kinda uneasy."

She said swigging the bottle and moving onto her bed, it was 2:00 AM. She looked out the window at the dark sky. She tried to forget Claire and the rest of the world. Sylar went searching for his shirt which he found slung over the back of a chair.

"You sure you're okay?"

Sheila didn't answer just sighed and looked at him. She broke out smiling. The Ferocious Sylar, Being so Delicate with her. It was comical to the highest degree.

"what are you smiling about?"

He asked coming over to sit down next to her.

"Nothing."

He put an arm around her and kissed her on the forehead, then on the tip of her nose, then on the lips where he stayed for quite sometime. She kissed back.

"You know I'm gonna be a little Miffed if I have to take all these clothes off again."

Sylar said raising an eyebrow. He didn't let her respond instead he kissed her again, hand trailing up her shoulder and sliding the robe off it ever so casually. He loved the look of her tanned skin on the white sheets, he loved the weight of her in his arms, he loved everything about her. But he also feared her, if she rejected him, it would be the end, he'd snap….even further, he might hurt, maybe kill her. Or himself. And no body wants that, now do they?

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Wheeeeee! 8th Chappie Done Yayz!!!!! I hopes youz enjoyzed it!


	9. You Had Sex!

Sheila sat bolt upright as she felt something buzz at her back and a loud pinging sound accompanying it. It was her cell phone, she grabbed it. Claire was calling her. She answered it.

"Claire?"

"Hey, how are ya?"

"Good, you?"

"Great, You wanna grab some coffee and hang out?"

"Sure, where, when?"

"Uh, now, and I'm outside your apartment."

Sheila's eyes widened and she looked down at a sleeping Sylar. _Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. _Was all she could think as she told Claire that she had slept in and that she needed a shower and to come back later. Claire hesitantly said yes and said she'd be back in half an hour.

"Sylar!"

She said shaking him awake.

"Mhm…Aw come on…5 more minutes…"

He said covering his head with a pillow. She took the pillow away and gave him Wet Willy. He sat up quickly, cursing loudly at her for doing that.

"Ah! God damn it Sheila! That was cold!"

"Yeah, you gotta go."

"why?"

"Claire's coming over here in half an hour and if she see's you she'll kill me and you."

"I doubt it."

"I don't!"

Sheila said tossing his pants and shirt at him. He pulled them on and ran his hand through his hair.

"I could just-"

"No! You gotta go!"

She said pulling a baseball hat out of her closet and placing it on his head, covering his eyes. It brought back an old nostalgia for his first days of murder. Now all he needed was a black jacket. Which she promptly handed him.

" Keep these on, you can have them, they were something I got at a Garage sale."

She said pulling the Jacket on over him, she shoved him out the door but not before giving him a drawn out passionate kiss.

"See you Sy."

She said closing the door. He walked away a few steps before asking himself, did she just call him Sy? He had never needed a nickname, his name was short enough already. But it's what she did, and he wouldn't dare complain. Sheila was quickly scrubbing her hair and washing herself off with scented soaps hoping to mask the scent of Sylar on her. Her original scent fell somewhere into a more earthy scent, less spicy. More like Vanilla and Nutmeg, she rinsed off and quickly dried herself off. Scrubbing her hair with a large beach towel, pulling on a white bra a, black shirt and a pair of black slacks, going commando. She also tossed on a Brown Jacket and a multi colored scarf. She ran down the stairs of her apartment building after grabbing her keys and Claire was standing, leaned against her car.

"Took ya long enough."

"I thought you went out while waiting?"

She asked nervously.

"Nah, just waited here."

"Okay…So Coffee?"

She said, hoping that Sylar took the fire exit at the side of the building. Claire smiled and they got into the car.Half way through the drive Claire leaned over and sniffed Sheila.

"Uhhhh..Hi?"

"You had sex!"

Claire said brightly and randomly. Sheila raised her eyebrow.

"No!"

She said squeakily as she looked at Claire in wide eyed horror.

"Yes! Yes you did! I can smell it!"

"You're freaky good…

Sheila said incredulously, she just hoped she couldn't tell who it was with. If she could then Sheila was screwed…Pun not intended.

"Yes I know, Now who was it?"

"No one just…Some backstreet lover."

She said sarcastically, best lies are laced with truth.

"Ohhh, Name?"

"No name."

She said simply, choosing the anonymous approach. If she kept prying she would call him Gabriel after Sylars old name. Sylar was no longer his 'Alter-Ego' it was just his plain Ego.

"Okay, Looks."

"Hot as Hell. Lean, tall, strong. I guess you could call him…Tall, Dark, and Handsome."

"Ohhhh…Sexy."

She said approvingly. Claire wasn't hard to please, Just tell her what she wanted to hear, if you were lying and doing it with even the tiniest bit of doubt she'd catch you red handed. But again; Sheila, Master of Black Holes and the Bold Faced Lie.

"Personality?"

"Soft, smooth, cool as silk. But his touch…"

Sheila shivered at remembering the Murder.

"Like fire."

"I'm Jealous."

"Don't be, not everything's perfect."

"How?"

"I'd rather not get into it."

Sheila said truthfully, giving Claire a sympathetic look. It really did hurt her that's he couldn't tell her, no wait…It didn't. Sheila felt no real sympathy to her lies, a cold, smooth, hard, rock. How she was and how she would be forever. She rebuilt her mask after sleeping with Sylar; she felt some kind of power crackle beneath her skin. Maybe it was the secrecy of their relationship, maybe it was his complete devotion. She didn't know what it was. But it felt good. A grin spread across her face.

"Sheila! Dirty girl!"

"What!? No! I wasn't-!"

"Yes you were! Don't lie!"

"But he's really good…"

She said in a whiny voice, sloping her shoulders, drooping her head.

"I know, I know but please keep it to yourself and at least keep your face straight!"

"Okay, okay…."

Sheila said pouting. The second time was better than the first, no voice, no screaming. She was conscious and not drunk and he really was good. She had never felt anything like it in her life and she now knew her writing better than ever, she could feel it. Her heart beat, the tick of her clock, the flex of muscles beneath skin, she was conscious of everything. Except Reality.

"Hey earth to Sheila, Coffee time!...well for me, You get steamed milk because you're not allowed to have coffee."

Claire said with an evil grin. Sheila hated her Caffeine Intolerance; it took away all of her fun, just like child proof caps. Her Sworn Nemesis.

"I hate you."

"I hate you too."

Claire said getting out of the car, Sheila followed suite and they walked into a small coffee shop. Peets, God they loved Peets. Claire ordered and Sheila got a table, after getting their drinks Claire continued to pry into her love life.

"So does Mohinder know?"

Sheila spat her mouthful of Steamed and flavored milk back into her cup. She coughed a few times.

"What?"

"Does Mohinder know?"

"No…Why?"

"Well I thought you had the hot's for him."

Claire said coolly, twisting her hair around one of her fingers.

"I did-I mean, I do-It's just! Augh!!!"

She said in frustration. Claire laughed loudly as Sheila slammed her cup of steamed milk onto the table, making some of the frothy liquid spill out.

"So you still do, you just don't think he'd want you?"

"Uhunh…"

She said weakly, her head still on the table.

"Lack of Confidence Sheila, Lack of Confidence.."

"I know."

She said sitting up, sipping the milk.

"And weren't you a virgin?"

Clare said just to see how far she could push Sheila, Playfully of course.Sheila froze with the cup to her lips and gave Claire the 'angry, wet, kitty' look.

"Shut up."

"You were! Ohhh Sheila, this is good! Juicy Gossip yes it is!"

She said impersonating Yoda. Sheila just rolled her eyes, she told Mohinder and Sheila would find a way to kill that seemingly indestructible girl. They finished their drinks with common discussion and Sheila said she'd walk home and around. She wandered around a bit, not really sure if she wanted to go home or what ever. She wandered the backstreets, finding her way around, Memorizing her way around. She couldn't shake the feeling of being watched.

"Hello?"

She asked turning around, nothing there. She shrugged and turned around, running into someone's firm chest. Black Jacket, Ramones T-shirt, Jeans, Black baseball cap.

"Hey Sy, had me scared there."

She said, looking into the murderers face.

"Yeah, My point."

"You spend all your time back here?"

She asked referring to the back streets of New York City. Dark and Dangerous, like him.

"I grew up in Queens, I know how to get around."

He said shrugging, She raised her eye brows.

"Yeah and I grew up in New Zealand but that don't mean I could give you directions for crap."

She said before Sylar started to kiss her face, not her lips but her eye lids and forehead, it was tickly because of his stubble. She liked this, as long as it stayed secret about her and Sylar, everything would be great. She giggled as he worked his way down her neck. Her arms were around his neck, hands on his head, He forced her against a wall which turned out to be a door by the solid thwunk it made when her back hit it. The door opened a little, held in place by a chain. An old lady looked out at them.

"Uh, Hi? Sorry for-for disturbing you, uh miss."

Sheila said, leaning against the door, Sylars full body weight pressing against her. His lips still frozen to her lower neck. But not active, his eyes lifted up slowly and the corner of his mouth lifted up slowly.

"Good Dear Lord, such vulgarity!"

"Sorry Ma'm. Didn't mean no disrespect, We're just a couple needin' a new fix up. That's all 'njoy yer day."

Sylar said in the best southern accent she had ever heard. The old woman curled her upper lip and slammed her door. Sheila laughed and grabbed his ass.

"You filthy lair!"

"Don't do that without expecting one in return. And yes, yes I am."

He said keeping his promise, she smacked his head. She had mussed up his perfectly spiked hair making him glower at her, and she stuck out her tongue.

"Can't be perfect."

He leaned forward and she stuck her tongue firmly back in her mouth.

"Don't you even think about it!"

She said cocking an eyebrow. He gave a disappointed grin and stepped back. Sheila stood hand on hip.

"Where are you going?"

"Can't have what I want, I'll walk away!"

He said fixing his hat and walking down the Street. Sheila turned in the opposite direction and started laughing. Suddenly, her life didn't seem so bad, It felt good. A guy who adored her, a best girl friend, a best guy friend, and someone she could have a decent argument with. But hey, there were still a lot of things to focus on, her book, her rent, and her confused emotions for Mohinder. But hey all of that could be solved later; right now she wanted a drink.


End file.
